A Snake Amongst Slytherin
by thefightingbull
Summary: Draco Malfoy would be willing to bet that there are fewer things more dangerous than being a Slytherin during the time of Harry bloody Potter's school years. It isn't just the Gryffindors who have to fret over spies, stress over grades, nor fear the wrath of the Death Eaters and The Dark Lord. Trapped and unsure of what to do, Draco decides to let himself be distracted...
1. The New Student

**For those of you following A Slytherin Tale, this is the reworking of it. I hate how little summary I am allowed to write, but this opens up the story froma new perspective and allows me the opportunity to really explore Slytherin house and it's students. I hope you all like it and that it's a vast improvement on the other. **

* * *

**Chapter 1: The New Student - Sunday**

After hopping off the train, Draco approached the small mob of sixth years. The evening air had a gentle chill that reminded him of how close they were to the lake. His pale blue eyes scanned his surroundings, seeking out his own housemates when he caught something odd.

A large pride of Gryffindor students surrounded a taller young man who had absolutely no house colors amongst his uniform. The student in question was wearing sunglasses even though the sun had long since set. He had a very stiff look in the long black coat that reminded Draco of someone, though he couldn't quite put his finger on who.

The boy was a nice distraction from Draco's own stressful musings. Whoever the student was, he was attractive. He had long thick hair that was better described as wavy than curly. The boy had to be nearly six foot three, much taller than most of the students in his year, making Draco think he could be a seventh year, but then, who on Earth would change schools for their final year or two?

At once the answer came to him. This mystery man was expelled from his former school. It was the only explanation that made sense, and considering the appearance, it was even less surprising. There was a goth-rock look to him that Draco normally found appalling, possibly because it reminded him of his aunt Bellatrix. Still, the long black trench-coat and the unlaced dragon hide boots suited the stranger.

"Only troublemakers transfer schools this late into their education," Theo said as he came up beside Draco.

"I wish I could see his face underneath all that hair and those ridiculous sunglasses," he told Theo, one of the only boys Draco could actually call a friend in his year and house.

"Best to find out which house he's going to belong to before getting distracted, Draco," Theo advised. "With your family keeping such a close eye on you, you can't afford another _otter_ scenario."

His pale blue eye snapped fire at the taller Slytherin. "Shut your mouth, Theo," he snarled.

Theodore Nott had been Draco's only true friend since they were toddlers. The quiet, shy young man was the perfect balance to his own obnoxious and controlling ways. He was the only teenager Draco allowed to criticize him. Any other student, even Crabbe and Goyle, would suffer his wrath if they dared to put him down in any way, no matter how truthful.

"Just sayin', Mate." Theo shrugged. "Pansy and Millicent almost found you out in the past. This guy ends up a Gryffindor, you'll _never_ live it down."

Draco was about to speak when he noticed Harry bloody Potter and Ron Weasley join the other Gryffindor's surrounding the new guy. They were both snickering to one another before Ron loudly commented, "What kind of prat wears sunglasses at night?"

Sharply defined lips fell into a severe frown, and even without seeing his eyes, Draco knew the boy was glaring at Ron for the slight.

"If he cries, he's a Hufflepuff for sure." Theo smirked.

"I say he's a Gryffindor," Blaise added as he walked up to Draco's free side. "He looks ready to deck Ron."

"No way," Draco shook his head. "He got expelled. No matter what house he is, he's not going to risk another expulsion."

"How do we know that?" Blaise asked curiously.

Draco shrugged. "Just a hunch."

"Could be a plant," Theo suggested quietly. "With everything going on, it wouldn't surprise me if the ministry or other forces sent a spy into our midst."

Blaise didn't look convinced by Theo's paranoia and neither was Draco. Theories weren't going to get him answers. Draco wanted to know more, so he made a choice before either of his closest friends could talk him out of it. This was his last year to be free after all, and he refused to waste even a single moment of it. This time next year he would be dead, imprisoned, or worse…a lackey. Just like his father.

He moved forward at a steady pace as several sixth years began to climb into the carriages that would take them to Hogwarts. If he planned everything just right, he'd manage to get into one with the new kid. He pulled his green silk lined hood over his head and moved just beside Hermione Granger but out of her direct line of sight.

"That's not always true," Hermione lectured. "Parvati and Padma Patil are twins and they're each in different houses. Family doesn't always determine house, and there is nothing wrong with being a Hufflepuff."

"'Cept of course that they never win the house cup. Or the quidditch cup. Or anything really, for that matter." Ron laughed. "They're kind of a pathetic lot."

Not at all to his surprise, Hermione looked pissed while none of the others in her little group seemed bothered by Ron's assertion. Truth be told, Draco felt it was an accurate sentiment. Even the new kid had given something of a half smirk, though Draco found it hard to tell if it was sarcastic or sincere. Not being able to see his eyes, it was nearly impossible to read the true intent behind his expressions.

"I doubt I get into Hufflepuff; I don't really have any of their traits."

He was an American? Draco couldn't help but be a little shocked. Sure, he was pale, but there was also a strange kind of olive tone to his skin that made Draco think of Italy or Greece. Maybe Theo was right…

"I'm all too aware of my accomplishments and I take a lot of pride in them. I'm by no means humble and I certainly don't feel the need to be loyal to anyone that hasn't earned it."

"So, which house _are_ you hoping for then?" Harry asked.

Draco did his best not to seethe or make a flippant remark. After six years, he still despised Harry Potter for constantly making him look like a fool. But he wanted to know the answer, too. So he stayed quiet as the whole body of students took a couple steps forward. He just wanted a good read on the foreigner. There was something about him that made Draco uncomfortable and yet excited.

With everything that had gone on in Harry's life like the death of Sirius, Draco fully expected Harry to become a lot more paranoid and suspicious of anyone who had a darkness about them. The American certainly had a strange, dark quality to him.

The teen in question shrugged again but this time his jaw stiffened. "Guess we'll see when we get inside," he responded tightly.

Soon it was time to get onto one of the carriages and Draco was absolutely going to be seated with whatever group the new-comer joined. He waited until Hermione, Ginny, and the boy had climbed in before Draco tripped Neville Longbottom, who had meant to be their fourth. He leapt inside the guideless carriage and sat down next to Ginny Weasley and across from Hermione Granger.

The boy's pretty lips curved into a smirk, and Draco just knew that it was intended for him. "That was rude, you know?" The soft, yet deep voice grinned.

"Yeah it was, _Malfoy_," Ginny hissed as she shoved him, the movement jostling his hood down.

For a moment, Draco was worried Hermione was gonna slug him in the face again when the hood fell down. "You foul loathsome –"

"Evil little cockroach," Malfoy finished with a forced roll of his soft blue eyes. There was no need to think about the odd little ball of pain that formed in stomach at her insults. "Yeah, yeah, I got it, Granger."

"This must be one of those nasty serpents you two were telling me about," the teen smirked. "Hi, I'm Emery Graves."

_Finally_! Wait, why did that name sound familiar? "Draco Malfoy," he offered his hand.

Instead of taking his offered hand, Emery's right hand gripped his own left forearm, as if for support. "Pleasure."

"So, what is with the glasses, Graves?"

To Draco's surprise, Emery turned and faced Hermione. "_I wear my sunglasses at night so I can see the vision of light right before my eyes_."

At once, Draco was struck with jealousy and rage, and yet…And yet he was confused, because he wasn't sure which way the jealousy lay. Nott was right, Hermione had gotten under his skin years ago and he'd always been too much of a coward to be decent to her. So, what right did he have to be mad when another boy showed an interest in her?

So then, maybe he was jealous that Hermione had Emery's attention.

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "You are muggle born!"

Draco and Ginny exchanged a confused glance before they realized they weren't supposed to be friendly with one another. Immediately they scowled at one another before looking back to the American.

"Are you really?" Draco couldn't help but sneer. Might as well be! If he was attracted to Hermione, then Theo was right. He couldn't afford another blunder. Especially not during his final year of freedom.

"How can you tell?" Ginny demanded before she scooted as far away from Draco as she could. He would have laughed if she managed to fall out of the carriage. It was would serve the little weasel right.

"They're song lyrics." Hermione's cheeks turned a pretty pink and Draco immediately looked away, finding no effort required in feigning disgust. "It's from a song called 'Sunglasses At Night', right?"

"Right," Emery smiled. Draco frowned irritably. "But no, I'm not from a No-Maj pairing. I just really like music."

"No-Maj?" Hermione frowned.

"Means the same thing as Muggle," Ginny provided before Draco could answer. "Americans call Muggles or Muggle-born, no-maj or non-maj."

Emery snickered as he shook his head. "Muggle is such a dumb word."

"And no-maj isn't?" Draco challenged.

"At least it doesn't sound like baby talk." The American shrugged.

Hermione blushed but pushed forward an argument of her own. "It might sound like baby talk, but I don't like that your expression sounds like the slang term that some American's have taken to calling…calling…a woman's… Ugh, I refuse to say it!"

Draco wanted to ask what it was, but Emery burst out laughing, causing the muggle-born witch to color even more brightly. He laughed loud and deep, and Draco found himself joining, along with Ginny and finally, Hermione herself. The four laughed openly, though Draco knew he and the Weasley sister had no idea what it was that had them all in stitches.

"You are a very bad kind of boy, Mr. Graves," Hermione said with as serious a face as she could muster once they all settled down. The carriage was close to the end of their ride and Draco realized he'd never admit that he was disappointed at how quickly they'd arrived at the castle.

"Guess you'll need to keep an eye on me, then," he flirted in response.

Again, Draco felt that pang of jealousy and confusion hit him over the head. He was only a little surprised when he saw Emery look his way and frown. Or at least, Draco assumed he looked at him. Those stupid lenses really did prevent him or anyone else watching Emery from reading him.

"I have enough boys to babysit, thank you very much," Hermione replied as Ginny giggled again.

"That's for sure," the youngest of their quartet added.

"Surely one more wouldn't make much of a difference then, would it?" He turned his head back to face Hermione just as the carriage came to a stop.

"Good luck with your sorting, Mr. Graves," Hermione answered before jumping out, Ginny right behind her, and racing off toward her friends.

"Everything alright, Drake?" Emery asked.

"It's Draco, and yes, why wouldn't it be?"

The taller teen shrugged his large shoulders and then exited, though instead of running off, he stopped and waited. Draco felt a little relieved for some reason and then looked up once they were standing side by side. It wasn't difficult to look him in the eyes like it would be for Granger or Lovegood or others as short as they, just a glance upward.

"You seemed…" Emery hesitated and then shrugged. "You seemed uncomfortable. You got a crush on her or something?"

"Hermione? She's a mu-muggle-born." Draco frowned, dismayed by his inability to say what he'd intended to say. What he'd been trained and taught to say.

"You were gonna call her a mudblood, weren't you?" Emery frowned as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his long coat.

Again, Draco found himself nodding despite trying hard not to. Why couldn't he do what he'd done for years? Why now was he struggling to lie or to be cruel? Was it the guilt? Was it the fear of what he was to become? He shook it off and waited for Emery to blow his lid, possibly even hit him like Granger had in third year.

"That's fucked up, man." Emery sighed, but he made no attempt to hurry away from Draco. "You shouldn't call her that. Not like she could help who she was born to."

There was a such an intense sadness to Graves' words that even though he'd made it clear he wasn't muggle-born, Emery must have been able to relate very much to Hermione Granger. Emery sounded both hurt and ashamed and against his better judgement it made Draco all the more curious to know more. And again, the boy's right hand gripped his left forearm tightly, like a tic.

"I hope you aren't a Gryffindor, Emery," was all Draco found himself capable of saying. "I'd like to get to know you better."

"Can't do that if I'm one them?" Emery asked.

Draco shook his head and then turned away quickly to find his own friends. Unfortunately, he couldn't see Theo or Blaise, so he resigned himself to following Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy inside the castle. He didn't look back at Emery either. He was definitely interested, but it was best to keep himself detached until he knew for sure where Graves would wind up. He did hold out a little hope. After all, there wasn't a single rule against befriending a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff. Both had excellent qualities and could be highly valued by the right Slytherin.

* * *

Sitting with his peers in the loud, chattering Great Hall, Draco was a little surprised when Albus Dumbledore approached the podium to make his announcements before the sorting of the little first years. However, when all that was announced was the reminder to stay out of the Forbidden Forest and the change to the post of Potions Master and Defense Against the Dark Arts, he understood.

Still, Draco was greatly concerned over the change in staffing. He was happy for his Godfather; Severus had wanted the post since he'd been hired to work at Hogwarts, but Draco couldn't help but believe the DADA position was indeed cursed. His peers believed it, too.

"What's gonna happen to him?" Trolley Holliday frowned. The sixth year Slytherin hadn't ever been a part of their crowd until the end of the fifth year. The tall brunette had managed to make friends with Pansy Parkinson and had usurped the role of best friend from Millicent Bulstrode.

"Nothing," Draco hissed. "You're talking about Professor Snape. He's not going to be taken down as easily as all those other idiots were."

Blaise, seated to Draco's left, sighed sadly. "That just means something particularly bad might happen to him. Something _always_ happens in DADA."

"He'll be fine," Theo repeated firmly from Draco's right. "Let's not forget that Professor Snape is widely known and accepted as one of the greatest Potions Masters of our time."

"Besides," Crabbe added with a large, evil smile. "You-Know-Who won't let the curse get him."

Then again, Draco knew exactly why the position would be open for Seventh year if the Dark Lord had his way. Apparently, Crabbe knew too. He wondered if the task had been given to Crabbe after Severus successfully campaigned against Malfoy being given the job of killing Albus Dumbledore. He'd been sworn to secrecy so that he wasn't capable of letting that information slip, but that was far better than being sworn to kill one of the most powerful wizards the world had known.

What had Severus done to change the Dark Lord's mind? He shivered at the thought and looked down at the empty space on the table before him. He didn't want to know and yet, he couldn't deny he was grateful. He'd been accused of cowardice since he was an eleven-year-old boy brought to Scotland to learn magic. There had been a small grain of truth to the accusations and when it came to murder? Draco knew he wasn't nearly brave enough for it.

"Look at how big that firstie is!" Millicent gasped in alarm.

"That's a transfer student you, moron!" Blaise grimaced at the girl's sheer stupidity. "Criminy, Millicent, he's taller than anyone in _our_ year!"

Theo nodded in agreement with their mutual friend. Nott himself had been the tallest prior to Emery's arrival. Only a few seventh years were taller. One in Hufflepuff, two in Gryffindor and Slytherin's own Leif Olsen. Draco had always been a little jealous. If utilized properly, those boys were quite intimidating.

"He has potential," Pansy allowed.

Pansy Parkinson understood how the game was played at Hogwarts as well as with the parents of those who attended the house of green and silver. By telling the other girls and boys at the table that Emery had potential meant that he was attractive but _only _depending on some unforeseen circumstance. Emery's likability was subject to a great many 'what-ifs'.

During this particular social climate for instance, being a Gryffindor would bar him from any further attention. Gryffindors weren't always considered bad matches in the past, but with You-Know-Who lurking about and a small percentage of former and current Death Eaters infiltrating their every day lives, the idea of a Slytherin dating one was tantamount to outright betrayal.

Even Blaise Zabini, whose entire family and bloodline had nothing to do with Voldemort nor Grindelwald, had been warned off by his pureblood parents not to court a Gryffindor. A Hufflepuff was only permissible if they shared the same 'sensibilities' as his family, a Ravenclaw was acceptable, but a Slytherin was the best outcome.

"Are you bonkers?" Trolley smiled softly, "I bet when he takes those shades off, he'll be the most exceptional wizard in the school."

Millicent rolled her eyes and then pouted when Pansy didn't immediately reprimand her. But Trolley was a flirt and they all knew it. Her mother and father had both been Hufflepuff during their time and somehow, their gangly, awkward daughter had managed to be sorted into a house that was supposed to be about resourcefulness, cunning, and ambition.

Someone needed to remind the sorting hat that Salazar Slytherin would never have approved of witches who swooned anytime a handsome boy passed by. Draco snorted at the thought but looked back up as the first years were slowly being sorted. A few came to their house, but the majority went to Hufflepuff. Draco wasn't likely the only one to have noticed that fewer and fewer students were being sorted into Gryffindor and Slytherin. Though, that realization hadn't occurred to him naturally.

"We're being isolated," Blaise began. "I'm telling you, that bloody hat has been tampered with. Likely by Dumbledore himself."

"To what point?" Draco sighed as he prepared to listen to his best friend's conspiracy theory for the third year in a row. "Even if it is true, why do it?"

"Oh, Hell, not this again." Theo rolled his eyes and dropped his head against his folded arms on the table.

"It's true!" Blaise whispered. "Ravenclaw has maintained steady membership for the past four or so years. They can't be tampered with too much because if anyone is sorted incorrectly into their house it will be too obvious and the little firsties wouldn't be able to keep up or even get into their tower!

"Gryffindor and Slytherin's houses have both fallen drastically in new students while Hufflepuff is about to become overcrowded! I just don't understand," Blaise insisted. "Why isolate us?"

Theo and Draco exchanged glances but opted not to speak up. They had a good idea as to why, but Blaise wasn't involved with the Death Eaters. Neither were willing to bring him in. Their fathers likely believed it was their way of preventing competition from a formidable challenger, but really, Draco liked Blaise far too much to let him get involved.

"Perhaps bravery in the face of what has been happening is the reason," Trolley pondered aloud. "Maybe to be in Gryffindor, you really do need to be brave above all else. Justice, intelligence and ambition can only help you so much in that house. Maybe the students just aren't suited for either of our houses."

"She's got a point, Blaise," Draco snickered. "Slytherin's numbers have never been what you would call high. We've always been one of the smallest houses."

"You'd think we were all Ravenclaw given the boringness of our conversations." Pansy sighed irritably, a subtle hint that they find a different subject.

"Look, that guy is moving to sit on the sorting stool. What a joke!" Crabbe laughed loudly along with several other students from the other houses.

Draco had to admit, it wasn't a good look. The boy was all limbs and even sitting on the stool, Professor McGonagall was not going to be able to place the hat on his head without reaching. Rather than blush the boy on the stool snickered, perhaps finding the proud witch's predicament amusing. He offered his hand to take the hat from her.

"Mr. Graves, you will please remove your sunglasses. Those are to be worn outside only," The Professor lectured, rather than handing over the hat. She also offered her hand out to hold the offensive eyewear, a sort of trade being offered.

To Draco's surprise, and quite possibly anyone who was paying attention, the boy's lip curled into a vicious sneer. It quickly morphed into a tight-lipped frown as he slowly raised his hand to remove the plastic framed lenses.

At once, Draco wondered if the boy was blind. He couldn't fathom any good reason that one would want to hide their eyes behind sunglasses. There were plenty of spells that could help him move as if he saw. Being a wizard, blindness didn't have to be such an extreme disability as he'd heard it was for muggles.

As the glasses were removed several children, specifically the first and second years began to whisper, gasp, or giggle. Professor McGonagall hushed them all, but the guilty frown was obvious. He couldn't quite see what the problem was from his seat so far back, but a silent "zoom" spell allowed him and several dozen other students to see what all the trouble was.

Emery Graves had two different colored eyes. A pale blue left eye and a dark bronze right eye. Amongst muggles, this might not have been unusual and could be considered a minor defect, but amongst Wizards and Witches? It was unnerving, though only recently. If Draco recalled correctly, such a trait was a good omen. That had of course been before Gellert Grindelwald. The man's own eyes had created a fear that those with such a trait were sinister and dangerous.

Draco noted that Emery seemed to become calm and the hard frown softened into a neutral line as his eyes seemed to catch something. Risking a glance, he followed the teenager's line of sight. If Draco wasn't mistaken, the boy was staring intently at Hermione Granger. The girl was definitely looking at him with a gentle and encouraging smile.

As Emery took the hat from McGonagall and placed it on his head, the boy suddenly grinned and winked his pale blue eye at the girl. At nearly the same time the sorting hat shouted; "Slytherin!"

Draco and his table clapped and cheered along with the rest of their house as the boy strode confidently to them. He made his way to the sixth year's and took a seat beside a seventh year and Trolley Holliday. The table of red and gold were whispering in something of frenzy, the older students in particular throwing glares and sneers their direction.

"Hi," Emery offered to those seated closest to him. "I'm Emery."

"I'm Trolley Holliday," the girl flirted before jumping to introductions. "This is Theo Nott. The boys across from us are Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. The girl beside Blaise is Pansy Parkinson. Then there's Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle."

"Eager to get to know me now, Draco?" Emery smirked, and Draco was sure the boy was mocking him somehow.

* * *

From the faculty table, Severus Snape watched with mild interest as the young man was sorted into his house. Being the observant man that he was, he caught the shocked and disappointed looks of Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley, not that he cared. He wasn't surprised by the Hat's decision. He'd seen a bit of that "I bow to no man" attitude found in most Slytherins the moment Graves had dared to sneer at Minerva McGonagall. He'd also subtly flexed his magic at her and the entire faculty table.

"Severus, a word after dinner, if you can," Albus said softly as he leaned closer to him. "We have much to discuss for the upcoming school year."

"Of course, Headmaster." Snape responded, his beady black eyes continuing to watch Emery as he moved to take a seat beside Draco Malfoy and his gang of miscreants.

He kept an eye on them and noted that there wasn't much talking from the American transfer student. The girl, Trolley, was the one doing the majority of the speaking while her peers would roll their eyes or try to get a word in edgewise.

Wanting to know why a sixth-year American student had been enrolled in Hogwarts, Snape didn't delay long after dinner in seeing Albus. True, the old man likely wished to speak of Harry Potter and the Dark Lord's plans to kill one or both of them. That didn't mean he couldn't use a small portion of their private talk to discuss matters of academia. They did both work for a school after all.

"You wished to speak with me, Headmaster?" Severus reminded as the old man looked up at him with an expression of confusion at his presence in the office. "I imagine it has something do with Potter or the Dark Lord?"

With a small smile, Albus shook his head. "No, Severus. For once you will find my request for this meeting with you purely academic in nature. It has nothing to do with Mr. Potter or Tom Riddle directly."

One of Snape's black brows rose, his curiosity piqued. He took a seat in the chair placed before the desk. "How refreshing," he smirked, but his tone devoid of emotion. "If it is not Potter, then I must assume it is either my class or my newest student. Mr. Graves?"

Albus's eyes twinkled gaily as he nodded. "Yes. The boy is here as a favor to an old student of mine." He leaned back in his chair, waiting for Snape to make a comment.

"Is he a spy?" Snape demanded.

"What makes you think that?" Albus frowned.

"Why not answer?" Snape returned. "Albus, children his age do not transfer schools this late in their education. Especially not to another country!"

"Moves and transfers within our ministries happen all over the world, Severus," he replied with a soft chuckle.

"Is that the case with Mr. Graves and his parents?" Severus asked calmly, though he knew the answer.

"No."

Severus felt his anger rise as he realized the only other reason a student was likely to be moved to a new school. If he wasn't a spy, if he wasn't the son of a parent with a career change, there could only be one other explanation. "Where was he expelled from?"

"According to his past instructors he has a tendency to react rather violently when pushed, agitated, or harassed." The deceptively powerful wizard floated a thick yellow folder across the desk and to his Head of Slytherin House. Printed across the front of the folder were the words _"Property of S.H.A.W.W."_ followed by _"Emeric Sebastian Graves"_. "I would suggest looking this over with a discerning eye when you have the opportunity."

Irritably, Snape opened the file right there in the headmaster's office. He was unsurprised to see that unlike most students, this boy's file was riddled with teacher comments. Red writing indicated the times he had been in trouble and the accounts of what happened and then finally, catching his eye was exactly what he'd been searching for. EXPELLED was rubber stamped at the bottom of the last page of the file.

"So you _have_ sent a troublemaker into my house," Snape confirmed with a sneer. "As if we don't have enough in this school already!"

"Once you read through it all, I trust that you'll be rather pleased to find that Emery is a well-behaved student who simply finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time." Albus smiled pleasantly, his blue eyes sparkling softly behind crescent shaped lenses.

"Another arrogant, fool-hardy boy who believes he knows best. Who would have thought Harry Potter came in Slytherin colors as well?" He growled as he closed the folder as angrily as one could with paper. "You realize he was expelled from a public high school for Wizards and Witches, a nearly impossible task! Especially for Salem High!"

Albus shrugged matter of factly. "It may not be Ilvermorny, but SHAWW isn't nearly as expensive as the rest of our schools and it's better that children be taught how to use their power than to repress it."

"Is there anything else?" Severus sighed, knowing he would not be able to win this argument with Albus. The man had clearly set a course for the boy and once Albus was involved, there was no changing his mind.

"He has no family to speak of, Severus. He'll be here for winter break. When summer comes…" Albus sighed heavily, reminding Snape of all the burdens on the older wizard's shoulders. "He'll be homeless. We should try to encourage his making friends with children that can be trusted."

"Well, he certainly chose his house well, didn't he?" He sneered sarcastically, his black eyes rolling in exasperation. "I can't bloody well allow him to befriend more than half of his peers in the sixth year _and_ keep him safe, now can I?"

"I trust you to make the right decisions for him, Severus." Albus replied with an easy but ultimately dismissive smile.


	2. To Manipulate

**Chapter 2: To Manipulate **

Theodore Nott frowned when he entered his room. For the past five years he'd never had a roommate in the two-man bedroom. Draco had been paired with Blaise from the get-go and Crabbe and Goyle shared a room. Luck had always kept another student from sharing with him. Every first night at Hogwarts, Theo walked into his room to find his trunk closed, indicating his items were packed, and the trunk beside the spare bed open.

Tonight, that was not the case as both trunks were closed.

"Hey," Emery's voice came from behind him. He stepped to the side so that his apparent new roommate could get into their room.

The taller boy walked in and removed his coat before tossing it over the trunk that sat in front of his twin sized four post bed. The boy sat down on his bed, appearing embarrassed and awkward. Theo almost took pity on him and asked if he was alright. That wasn't the Slytherin way, however, so he kept his mouth shut instead.

"Didn't know we'd be sharing rooms," Emery finally bit out. "Never been to a school like this."

"Where'd you come from? I thought Ilvermorny dormed their students?" he asked. He was sure that the American school was a private boarding school just like the others around the world.

"They probably do," Emery shrugged before stretching out on his bed, not bothering to kick his boots off, first. "I came from SHAWW."

"Where?" Theo tried to think back to what he knew of the other school, and then his eyes widened. "Wait, Salem High's Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Isn't that like a _public_ school?"

"If you mean we don't pay tuition to attend, that the Ministry pays for it, then yeah," Emery sneered, clearly taking offense to Theo's disgusted tone. "But public implies they let anyone in. You still have to be a Wizard or a Witch to get in."

"So, you're poor then?" Theo asked and at once regretted it. He wasn't normally this talkative or even inquisitive of students, but he felt he had a right to know who he was sharing a dorm with. Still, he hadn't meant to antagonize the stranger in his quest for information.

The boy appeared a little confused though, rather than mad. He blinked slowly and then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

Theo's eyes looked to the small nightstand that was attached to the top side of Emery's bed. There was a single photo of a woman and small boy with two different colored eyes. The woman's face changed from a white woman with long brown hair and green eyes to an Asian woman with bleached blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He frowned and when he tried to focus on the woman's features, they changed yet again. This time to a black woman with red and purple braids and sapphire blue eyes.

"What's wrong with your picture?" Theo asked.

"The more you look at it, the more it will change." He shrugged. "My family's really private. I'm the only who knows when it's really her."

The woman kept kissing the little boy on the cheek. The boy would sneer but giggle and push the mother's face away. It was almost a sweet picture, but Theo frowned. Something about that photograph bothered him. It felt… like a lie. He stared at Emery and bit at his lip. He tried a spell he'd been working on for a while, trying to carefully determine if he was lying. It wasn't quite Legilimensy, but it would tell him if the last words spoken were true or not.

Theo frowned. The boy's last sentence was false. He looked back to the picture and the way Emery looked at it. There was a spark of hate that flashed in his strangely colored eyes as he suddenly reached over and slammed it down so that it couldn't be seen.

"You practice wandless, wordless magic?" Emery frowned.

"Good schools try to teach it as soon as they can." Theo shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Yes, you did." Emery glared as he stood up and approached Theo. "You did mean to, but don't worry. Your skill is unquestionable, I didn't know you'd cast a thing until you just admitted to it. Maybe being in this school, I'll get a _proper_ education."

Theo returned the dirty look, "Watch yourself, Graves. I won't tolerate threats from you. Idle or otherwise."

Emery's lip curled into a sneer as he opened his arms. "Likewise."

Theo's reply was interrupted when Draco walked in looking bored and agitated.

"Don't you knock?" Emery demanded.

"No, he doesn't," Theo sighed irritably. "He's a klepto, too. So, watch your stuff around him."

"Rude!" Draco feigned insult. Theo knew better though. Draco never stole anything of value and almost always returned it. Despite what other houses knew of the self-proclaimed "Prince of Slytherin", Draco went through intense bouts of grief and anxiety when he took things, valuable or not. He usually ordered the Hogwarts house elves to return anything he'd stolen throughout the day.

Still, image was everything with Draco Malfoy, and so Draco often pretended he stole things for his own personal gain or revenge. Really, he stole more from Slytherins or teachers than he did anyone else. He had far more opportunity and the urges struck without warning and he hadn't learned how to resist them. For a while, Theo had taken to calling him "Niffler". Unfortunately, Draco hated magical creature studies and the joke had been lost on him.

Emery's sour mood seemed to brighten as he laughed at Draco's comment. "Well, don't take my stuff. I don't have much of it."

A soft blush touched Draco's cheeks. "Yeah, I usually try to bring it all back," he promised. "Anyhow, the girls want us to come into the common area and play their dumb little 'getting to know you' games."

"That sounds awful," Emery blurted.

Theo couldn't help but laugh and nod. "It's just their way of picking out their future husbands and any or all weaknesses of their peers. Nothing to worry about at all."

"Nothing at all," Draco agreed sarcastically.

* * *

Draco had to admit that he was getting bored of his "friends". With the exceptions of Blaise and Theo, he despised the teens chosen to be his peers. Trolley, despite being such an outwardly nice girl, was like an evil mastermind. He had begun to suspect more and more that she pretended to be a vapid, shallow idiot so that girls like Pansy didn't realize that she was slowly taking control of what they did or when. Trolley knew how to stroke Pansy's ego, making it seem like her great ideas were really Pansy's.

Crabbe and Goyle had long since outlived their usefulness as enforcer types. When a bloody third year girl could take a swing and not fear the consequences, the tough guy act had long since failed! He didn't know why he put up with either of them anymore.

A brief glance at Theo and a nearly non-existent scar that ran down Theo's left temple and down to his collar bone, reminded him why with crystal clarity. Crabbe and Goyle seniors were Death Eaters, just like Theo and Draco's fathers. The two junior morons were constantly feeding information to their parents and said information went to The Dark Lord. Near the end of fourth year, Crabbe and Goyle claimed to have "seen" Theodore Nott tutoring a mudblood from Ravenclaw. Avery Nott had nearly killed Theo that summer and likely would have, had Draco not managed to convince his own father that Crabbe and Goyle had it in for Theo and were making up lies about him. The tutored student was actually one of Durmstrang's.

His eyes moved to Pansy. The girl was practically a squib. A pretty girl, but an embarrassment, nonetheless. He didn't understand why it would be more acceptable for him to be friends with a pureblood defect than a mudblood prodigy?

"So, what's your family like, Emery?" Pansy smiled to the new student from a dark green, wing-backed chair.

Emery was sitting next to Theo on a small black sofa. The obvious tension Draco had picked up from the two seemed to have vanished. Emery looked pained when the girl asked, but he gave a shrug for an answer, assuming incorrectly that this group would let it go.

"Shrugging isn't an answer." Millicent scoffed. "What are they like?"

"Dead mostly, why?" He snapped suddenly, his blue and brown eyes settled on the witch with a snarl on his lips.

"Mostly?" Trolley asked with feigned innocence.

Draco imagined that in any other house, some space and respect would have been given the new lad. Sadly, Emery was about to learn that this was Slytherin house. They didn't let things go. Not things like lineage or anything to do with tradition. Feelings didn't matter. Just the goods and no one present, maybe with the exception of himself or Theo, could determine if he was worth getting to know until they learned what they could of any potential embarrassments.

Emery shrugged again. "Honestly, I don't know about my dad. My mother's dead."

"So, you didn't know anything about them? What schools they went to? What houses they were sorted into?" Trolley continued.

"They want to know what your family's stance is on mudbloods," Blaise translated with a yawn, clearly sick of the games as much as Draco was.

"All the family I know of were purebloods," Emery shrugged and thankfully, some rising tensions fell. That is, until he opened his mouth again. "What you should really ask is what do I think of purebloods and _muggle-borns_."

"_Mudbloods_," Crabbe corrected as everyone held perfectly still.

Emery's lips quirked into smirk. "I had it right the first time, thanks."

Theo inched a little further away, his eyes finding Draco's. This was the warning Theo had been trying to give him while they were waiting to be taken to the castle. One never knew. Especially with transfer students that didn't know the rules of Hogwarts. How had he managed to wind up in this house if his feelings on the muggle-borns were so very strong? Was the Sorting Hat trying to get him killed?

"Wait, didn't you tell someone that your mother was a Hufflepuff?" Draco suddenly recalled.

"She was," Emery nodded.

"What did the hat say to you?" Blaise asked curiously.

Emery raised a brow at the boy as if to say, 'and why should I tell you that?'

"I'll tell you what he said to me!" Trolley volunteered, clearly taking pity on Emery. She gave the American a soft smile. "My parents were both Hufflepuff when they attended."

"Really?" Emery tilted his head curiously.

"Yeah!" She smiled again. "When it was put on my head, the Sorting Hat told me that I had a choice. I could choose the correct path or wrong the path. I asked what made one correct and one wrong. He told me that the correct path would be the harder, but the most fulfilling, that I would find the right allies and that I'd lead a good and happy life. The wrong path I would make friends, and I'd be happy while I was in school but once out of school, I'd be miserable and would never amount to much."

Draco watched as a soft smile formed over Emery's lips. "So obviously you chose the wrong one, then."

Trolley laughed happily, nodding. "Obviously."

"Are you saying _we're_ the wrong path?" Millicent frowned, confused.

"No, you, twit!" Blaise rolled his eyes. "She was being sarcastic."

"Are you saying we're allies and not friends, then?" Pansy demanded archly.

"Oh Pansy, if you have to ask, you'll never know," Trolley beamed.

Blaise clapped a few times before he reached down to squeeze the shoulder of Trolley. The girl had her back against the foot of the couch where Blaise was lounging comfortably. "Well, played Trolley," He complimented.

"So, what'd the hat say to you?" Crabbe asked Emery.

"Did you see how long the hat was on his head?" Theo chuckled. "It probably said something along the same lines as mine or Draco's. 'Definitely' in our ears and 'Slytherin!' to the rest of the school."

"Pretty much," Emery agreed.

"How come you don't know who your dad is?" Gregory Goyle asked.

"Because my mom was a slut." Emery shrugged as if he hadn't just insulted his own mother.

Draco shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like the way the American could run so hot and cold from minute to minute.

"Is he alive?" Blaise pushed.

"Fuck if I know." Draco watched as Emery grabbed at his left forearm again.

"Vulgar American filth," Pansy sneered in disgust.

"I can't believe you just said that." Millicent agreed, obviously trying to get on the girl's good side. "I mean it's completely unheard of, here. Why not just say bloody like everyone else?"

"What the Hell kind of swear word is bloody? If I said 'get your bloody nose away from me' am I swearing or referring to an actual bloody nose? You Brits have no idea how to swear properly." Emery shook his head. "The word fucking is better. It catches everyone's attention and you can't mistake its meaning, even though it's super versatile."

"You do know that we 'Brits' coined the word, don't you?" Theo snickered.

"Yeah but it's considered more violent than bloody, and you guys aren't nearly as aggressive as Americans," Emery laughed.

* * *

Listening in on the conversation, Severus Snape had to admit he was little impressed. Emery had the group focused on the difference between American and English swear words or insults. Long forgotten was his background or lineage.

The girls were pretending to be mortified like proper English ladies should, while the boys began throwing out more vulgar and crass words at one another. The more vicious or silly the insults, the more the boys laughed. Draco and Emery provided the bulk of the insults which kept the whole group laughing as they grew more outlandish. Fun as it might have been for them all, he couldn't help but be disappointed in his students for allowing the evasion.

The group was nearly in tears when Draco called Emery a 'git', the American completely flabbergasted by the word and unable to take its meaning. He scrunched up his nose and shook his head, claiming confusion and asking how it was even meant to be an insult.

If Snape hadn't known better, he was convinced that he'd believe himself listening in on a gathering of first or second years. He was relieved that the Seventh years had gone to bed and hadn't noticed the small group of sixth years acting like buffoons. Unfortunately, there was handful of students from varying years who were exposed to such idiotic examples of proper Slytherin behavior.

"How very Gryffindor of you all." He paused for effect so that the insult would have time to set in and really sting. His smooth voice filled the common room as he walked out of the shadow he'd been watching from. "Look at yourselves. All of you. Lounging about and discussing tactless language like a bunch of first years. It's disappointing to be sure, but mostly humiliating."

Draco, Theo, and Blaise blushed, while several of the girls frowned, though not one of the students jumped to defend themselves or even apologize. Still, Severus knew that the comment had been effective. They were wounded and humiliated; the only way a proper lesson could truly last in their weak, malleable minds.

His black eyes settled and focused on the newcomer. While he normally took good care of his own students, Severus knew that the boy could not be allowed to grow close to the children currently surrounding him. It was time to alienate the boy and make sure this particular group of Slytherins wanted nothing to do with him.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, however, Mr. Graves beat him to the punch.

"Seeing as I'm not a Slytherin and all, and you guys pride yourselves on speech and subtle communication, I just figured this sort of conversation would be important," Emery rolled his eyes. "I think I'm due some extra credit for taking the initiative."

Several of the children's eyes widened in shock. While Slytherins were indeed known to buck authority, not one Slytherin student had ever dared to risk the Head of House's anger. Especially not since he, Severus Snape, had been that head. Even Draco appeared both shocked and impressed by the American's boldness.

Immediately, Snape believed he knew just how to prevent further bonding between Draco and Emery, thus eliminating any attachments to the other students present as well. With a cool tone and bit of impressed encouragement lacing his words, Professor Snape began to speak. His mouth turned upward into a smile as he caught Emery in his gaze. "It seems you have some competition here, Mr. Malfoy. Best be watchful or your subjects may crown a new prince."

The professor was quite pleased with the effect his praise of Mr. Graves had on his sixth-year class. Teenagers could be so fickle. The entire common room had long since grown quiet so that they could listen in on this conversation, and now all eyes were fixed intently on Draco and Emery, the first of which was glaring suspiciously at the latter.

Severus watched the boys, rattled and surprised to find that Draco was not so quick to agree with Severus' estimation of the new student. If anything, Draco seemed to be feeling _pity_ for the American. He didn't need Legilimensy to read how confused his godson was at the idea of Emery trying to take his place. Worse, Draco didn't seem to care if he did!

When had this occurred?

Draco looked up at him, his blue eyes catching Severus' before they widened in fear. The boy was panicking, that much was easy to see as well. He was afraid of him and afraid of what Snape might be thinking, but more so than that, he was afraid of Crabbe and Goyle's reactions. The boy side-eyed them constantly.

"You must be a friend to Draco's fallen father," Emery spoke softly, pulling the attention of the room back to him. "It's obvious that you wouldn't want Draco being shown up by some American low-life. I mean, it's bad enough that some no-maj born out performs 'The Prince of Slytherin', but for some drifter from across the Atlantic to come and outcast him? Low blow, right?"

"What makes you think you could?" Pansy snapped, quickly coming to Draco's defense.

Severus hid a smile behind a severe frown. This was working out quite well. He could sense the boy's arrogance climbing and he was about to reveal himself as the two headed snake that he was. He wouldn't need to do much more after this conversation to prevent the Death Eaters' children from absorbing him into their group as they had Blaise, Trolley, and several others.

Emery stood, a slight flexing of his magic pressing up against everyone in the room as he glared down at Pansy in her green chair. "You all think that because I came from SHAWW that I don't know a thing or two about magic? That I'm some brainless oaf? Please. I could outcast every one of you." The boy then turned to Draco and his eyes narrowed. "And if the Prince of Slytherin wants to gamble his crown, I'm game. Anytime, anywhere."

Draco shot to his feet and sneered, his eyes no longer filled with worry or paranoia. Instead the blue eyes sparked flames of rage. Severus continued to observe; he had to at this point, if only to be sure that there wouldn't be any physical or magical attacks made by either boy.

To his supreme pride, he saw the moment Draco reevaluated his opponent. The young Malfoy's face smoothed out any signs of anger and he traded the sneer for a smug little grin. "Get a grip, Graves. You lose the battle before it even began." He remarked coolly. "Challenge me again when you actually have a father willing to claim you, Gutter-Trash."

Draco turned his nose up just a touch and calmly walked out of the common room.

The American looked confused as the rest of the sixth years quickly got to their feet and followed after Draco towards the dormitories. As a matter of fact, the other students took off as well, as if they didn't want to be seen with the now disgraced Graves. His strange eyes fell as his fists tightened at his sides. Severus nodded, knowing his work was done and turned to leave.

"How could you enjoy something so vile?" Emery's accusation came out in a hateful hiss. "What kind of teacher turns his students against one another like that!"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Graves," he replied silkily. "I do however know that if you don't learn some respect for me very soon, you are going to find yourself in the uncomfortable position of answering to your housemates for why they will be starting their school year off with a point deficit. Goodnight, Mr. Graves."


	3. The First Day of 6th Year

**Chapter 3: The First Day**

Being the new kid wasn't easy no matter where you were, and Theo found he felt bad for Emery. The Slytherin students had taken the all too obvious hint from their Head of House and decided he wasn't worth risking their social status for. The Gryffindors already hated him as if he'd been a Slytherin all his life. The Hufflepuffs didn't know him and didn't know his family, so they felt no loyalty at all toward him. The Ravenclaws were curious, but not enough to risk censure from friends in other houses it seemed.

Theo's concerns were solidified during the first class of the day. Despite sharing Advanced Potions with most of the sixth year Slytherins, Emery had been isolated and left without a partner. Even the students from the other three houses didn't want anything to do with him.

Once they'd been without him the night before, Pansy and Millicent were the first to decide Emery was ignorant. Like Theo's friends, the Professor probably doubted his pedigree too, made evident by the way he refused to acknowledge the student. Being American wasn't a bad thing, especially when one was of a noble or at least a well-known bloodline. So far as Theo could tell, Emery was likely a poor half-blood. One who by his own admission was a bastard and unlikely to ever be recognized as anything more than trash.

The class was interrupted when Harry Potter and his friend Ronald Weasley arrived. The two appeared to have a minor scuffle over the two remaining textbooks with Ron walking away the victor. Theo didn't particularly care for either of them, but he couldn't deny it must have been nice to have a friend one could be so open with. He and Draco were constantly holding back their easy-going friendship when they were at school.

As the task was set for them all, Theo frowned when they began to work on Liquid Death. He didn't know why, but it felt wrong. Draco in particular look flustered along with Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger and Emery Graves. Harry Potter of course, looked calm and relaxed. He didn't hate Potter the way Malfoy did, but there was quite a rivalry between him and all Slytherin students.

Like most of his peers, Theo was convinced that neither Harry nor Ron were anywhere near smart enough for the Advanced classes and that they'd used Hermione Granger to skate through each and every course they'd taken.

"Yes, Mr. Graver?" Theo and Draco both turned to face the boy alone at his workbench. He looked irate and muttered something to their professor. "I know things might have been different in _SHAWW_," The professor chuckled, but emphasized some disdain in the word. "but I assure you, our books are quite accurate."

The boy's fists clenched as he sneered. "We'll be lucky if we can manage to brew 'liquid misery' with this outdated piece of shi–"

"Five points from Slytherin for being disrespectful, Mr. Gravesly." Professor Slughorn sighed before he moved to the next table that had their hand up.

"Nice going!" Malfoy sneered from beside Theo.

Emery's multi-colored eyes narrowed before he flipped Draco the bird. Theo nearly chuckled along with Blaise and Trolley, but considering he was the closest to Draco, he decided it wasn't the best idea. "Ignore him, Draco, we'll make up the points. DADA's next," he reminded instead.

Draco nodded. "Professor Snape will make sure he gets what's coming to him." As Theo continued to prepare his ingredients, Draco added in a grumble, "Though he's not wrong. Even _I_ can't see how this will make Liquid Death."

"Maybe it's one of those 'teaching opportunities'," Blaise suggested from the table ahead of them. "Maybe the book is wrong and he's trying to get us to figure that out. That we can't always rely on the book."

Theo was inclined to agree and was about to say so when Professor Slughorn loudly gushed over Harry bloody Potter. Of course! "I think your theory just got tossed on its arse." He frowned instead.

No one in his group was really surprised when Hermione Granger immediately ran over to Professor Slughorn trying to figure out where she went wrong. He wasn't even surprised when he watched Emery storm over alongside her. Trolley, Blaise and Draco appeared shocked, but Theo wasn't. He'd been waiting for the guy to blow a gasket the moment Slughorn called him by the wrong name.

"Mr. Graver?" The Professor acknowledged before he looked to Hermione and smiled. "Ms. Granger."

"Graves!" Emery snapped, startling anyone who wasn't already paying attention.

"Pardon?" Their former head of house frowned in confusion.

"My name is Emery Graves," Emery sneered as he glared down at the slightly shorter and quite portly teacher. "It's not Gravesly, not Graver, not Gravel. Unless you'd like me to start calling you Mr. Sluggish or Professor Hornslug, you will respect me enough to call me by _my_ name."

Theo's eyes widened in surprise but aside from that, no one moved. No one spoke. Professor Slughorn was no Severus Snape, that was certain, but there wasn't a Professor in the entire castle that didn't at least have a modicum of respect reserved for them from the student body. Especially _during_ class. Emery Graves had to be a psychopath to talk to a staff member like that. The Professor looked stunned for about five second before he clapped Emery hard on the back and guffawed.

"Dear boy, forgive me," he chuckled. "I meant no harm by it. But to be sure, Mr. _Graves_, it won't happen again."

Draco's jaw dropped.

"He's lucky that wasn't Professor Snape," Trolley gasped quietly.

"Yeah he is," Blaise agreed.

Emery appeared to calm almost instantly. "The book has to be flawed, Professor Slughorn. I followed it to the letter and I'm fairly certain most of us in this class did."

"It's true!" Hermione added. "I've always trusted the source material, but this has me doubting the entire book!"

"Are we not here to learn, Mr. Graves? Ms. Granger?" Professor Slughorn smiled and Theo looked to Blaise. "You must trust your instincts as Mr. Potter did today."

Theo couldn't help but catch the side-eyed glare that Hermione threw the 'chosen one'. He tilted his head and looked over at Harry and caught Ron and Neville doing the same. Theo frowned. It wouldn't surprise him one bit if Professor Slughorn had somehow slipped him the real potion recipe. Everyone coddled that bastard so much!

* * *

Hermione frowned as she walked into step with Harry, Neville and Ron toward the staircase that would lead her and the other students out of the dungeons. A majority of the sixth years were on their way to the third floor where Defense Against the Dark Arts, or DADA, was being held. She wasn't at all pleased with Harry for using the book as he had. If they weren't surrounded by so many of Harry's nay-sayers she would lecture him.

"Noticed the new guy isn't fittin' in well with his house," Ron brought up softly, much to Hermione's surprise.

She looked up and nodded. She'd noticed it as well. Though he'd sat with and seemed to have gotten on well his peers during dinner the night before, this morning was a whole different story. She wasn't surprised though. Slytherins were the most prejudiced, hateful group of students in the school. Like many, she wondered why they were even allowed to attend.

Emery was walking alone several paces ahead of her group, but several paces behind Malfoy and his friends. She nibbled at her bottom lip as she considered calling out to him. He'd been as angry as she had that the book had been garbage. He'd even lost points for telling Professor Slughorn off the first time.

"He's a wanker," Harry decided as she was about to call for him.

"Pretty cool the way he put Slughorn in his place," Ron shrugged.

"It was rude and disrespectful," Harry disagreed as they walked. "He's just mad that his education isn't –"

"Watch yourself, Harry," She spoke up in warning. "I was schooled here too, along with Neville and Nott. Even _we_ couldn't get the potion right."

Harry rolled his pretty green eyes, "That's not what I meant. I just mean, I heard someone say that SHAWW isn't all that impressive of a school. That they are lacking in talented teachers as well as supplies."

To be fair, she'd heard the same thing. It made sense of course. Ilvermorney no doubt took up a lot of budgeting from the MACUSA and also had a lot of private donors. SHAWW was barely funded and had a lot of its coursework donated to it by the other schools around the world. She'd read more often than not, the donations were useless due to being obsolete or too heavily worn down.

"I heard they don't even offer flying courses," Neville whispered softly.

That was no loss to her, but she could see where it would be to a great many witches and wizards in their age group. She hated flying, she hated heights, and she thought it was absolutely stupid she'd been required to take the beginners course. Thankfully, further classes weren't a requirement.

"At least we don't have to worry about him on a quidditch field then." Ron shrugged. "Much as I hate to say it, Slytherin looks pretty good this year."

"Please," Harry sneered hatefully.

"No seriously, Draco's become a pretty good Seeker," Ron blurted, and Hermione cringed at the thoughtlessness of the comment. Ron, too seemed to catch on to his blunder as he turned bright red. "Not that anyone is better than you, of course!"

Rolling his eyes as they took the stairs, Harry huffed. "Just drop it, Ron."

As they continued to move, Hermione thought she heard Emery's name mentioned around her once or twice but thanks to Ron morosely attempting to gain Harry's forgiveness, she couldn't quite catch the words. She could see by the body language of the tall boy that whatever was said, he'd heard it just fine. His shoulders were slumped, and he scuffed his feet along in a half angry, half sad kind of way that Hermione herself could relate to.

Or at least, eleven-year-old Hermione could. Or any of the Hermione-s that had been made fun of could. She wasn't delusional. Hermione wasn't popular. She was simply friends with boys who were popular. She didn't make friends easy and had it not been for becoming best friends with Harry and Ron she likely would have been cast off as the most annoying witch of her age, rather than the brightest.

Once more she decided she needed to step forward, do the right thing and talk to him. As she increased her pace, she noticed Emery stop, his hands tightening into fists and his shoulders squaring. Worried, she ran up to his side.

"Em–

"Probably a mutation due to inbreeding," Pansy giggled alongside Malfoy, Nott, and Zabini.

"Don't listen to them Emery," Hermione said gently as she came upon his left side.

He looked down at her, his expression startled, his eyes brimmed with furious tears. Or that's what she assumed. That's what they'd been for her too. She reached out to take his left hand, but he pulled it away, his right hand gripping his forearm tightly. "Hard not to," he admitted quietly.

"I know. I was teased by them a lot, too," she offered.

"How'd you get them to stop?" he asked curiously, the pained emotion slowly fading from his expression.

Shrugging her shoulders, she gave him a sheepish smile. "It hasn't yet, not fully, but it did slow down when I punched Malfoy in the face in third year."

He chuckled softly. "Are you telling me to go pick a fight?" Emery asked. "Seems like a Gryffindor trait for sure."

"How _do_ you know so much about our houses?"

He shook his head. "SHAWW is donated to more often by Hogwarts than Ilvermorney, believe it or not. We use the same housing system to dictate our class peers."

"Really?"

"Mmm." He nodded and then tilted his head, a bright smile crossing his face. "Ask, Hermione. You know you want to."

"Which house were you placed in back in Salem?"

"I'm Slytherin through and through," he answered, and Hermione felt her own smile fade. "That really bothers you, doesn't it?"

She nodded. "How can you be so proud of it? Look at how they treat you! Look at how they treat everyone around them!"

The taller, possibly older boy looked taken aback. She could tell by the way his brows rose and the way he stopped walking. For some reason she was pleased to see that he'd taken her question seriously. He tightened his hold on his left forearm again.

"My…" His eyes cut downward before Hermione was caught in his intense gaze. "My great grandfather was the greatest wizard I ever knew. He was strong, willful, determined and brave. I just want to make him proud."

"It sounds like he would have been a Gryffindor though?" She frowned.

"He probably would have been." He smiled fondly. "But making him proud isn't being a replica of him, and that's what he taught me. He taught me to be the greatest me that I knew how to be, and you know what I am, Hermione?"

She shook her head as she crossed her arms, a soft blush warming her cheeks at the intensity with which he stared at her.

"I am ambitious," he started. "I am resourceful and cunning." His smile started to grow as he took a step closer. "And I will never,_ ever_ bow to a lesser being than me. I would rather be beaten, cursed, and left for dead than to be forced into a mold I can't possibly fit in."

Hermione couldn't deny she admired his words, but unlike her friends and herself, she doubted his words had ever really been tested. While Slytherin's weren't all vile elitists, one trait seemed to run true among their ranks. They were survivalists first and foremost. Bravery didn't seem to matter much to them, and she doubted that when push came to shove, many would have the courage to stand their ground.

"It's one thing to say all that, it's an entirely different matter to live through it, don't you think?" Hermione asked gently, not wanting to offend him outright.

Instead of being angry or sulking as she'd expected, he grinned. "Truer words were never spoken."

"Oi!" Ron's voice came from her left. She looked to see Harry, Ron, Neville and now Lavender and Parvati standing around the two of them. "Snape's already gonna dock you points if you're late for his class. Can't imagine how many he'd add for keeping one of his snakes from getting in on time."

* * *

Emery looked very confused but didn't argue as she was surrounded by her friends and lead back into the classroom. She couldn't help but smile back at him before she entered the dreaded room with her peers and rivals.

To her horror, she found herself thinking about his lips as she took her seat quietly. It wasn't like her at all. Well, not since Victor Krum. Hermione Jean Granger didn't crush on boys and she certainly didn't let boys distract her from academics.

Looking at the doorway, Emery hesitated before walking into the classroom. What was he going to find when he went in? Another room filled with students that wanted nothing to do with him? Another teacher, or professor as they insisted on being called, who thought his education was second rate? Who thought _he_ was second rate?

He licked his lips nervously as he caught sight of Draco Malfoy watching him again. The boy was seated next to Theo and Pansy. Emery didn't understand why he wasn't allowed to be friendly with him, but Professor Snape had practically radiated danger when he'd caught Emery hanging out with Draco and his friends in the common room. Nothing could have been made clearer to him than if Professor Snape had screamed it at the top of his lungs.

_Stay away from Draco Malfoy. _

Hermione's friends had done the same thing. They'd been polite, probably thrown off by the lack of fellow Slytherins surrounding him. But the message had come through all the same. She's our friend. You've no right to be around her.

_Stay away. _

It was always stay away.

"I imagine you'd learn more inside of the class than out of it, Mr. Graves," The baritone voice of his head of house hissed silkily to his right. The pale man draped in black arched a brow at him. "You've thirty-three seconds to be seated before you are tardy."

The man didn't say anything else as he walked steadily into the Defense classroom. Immediately he started barking at students to remain quiet and be seated at once. Emery took a deep breath and finally entered the class. His eyes scanned the room and he was surprised to see that only three seats remained.

All three felt like a trap.

In the front row beside Blaise and Trolley was an open seat. Beside Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom was a seat in the second row and in the back row was an empty seat between a pretty blonde girl and pretty Indian girl; both Gryffindors. He didn't know any of these people, but he knew that Slytherins didn't sit with Gryffindors. However, he also knew that for some reason Snape didn't want him sitting with his own sixth year class.

Definitely a trap.

"Take your seat Mr. Graves," Professor Snape's voice hissed.

With a sneer and glare at the irritable man, Emery took his seat between the pretty girls, drawing actual gasps from the students surrounding him. Draco's jaw dropped and Ron snorted loudly before cutting off a laugh. Emery folded his arms somewhat petulantly as he pinned his eyes to his Head of House, openly daring him to bitch about it.

The Professor was bewildered if his wide eyes and raised eyebrows were anything to go by. But where the Hell else had he expected him to sit? He wasn't allowed to sit with his own house, which, really? What was the point in sorting them into groups if they weren't allowed to interact with their house peers? He wasn't allowed to sit with Hermione, or her friends would have massive tantrums. His only option had been to sit with the other Gryffindor girls.

"What?" he snapped when he couldn't take the staring anymore.

Thin lips tightened as Snape scowled at him. "Two points from Slytherin for speaking out of turn."

If that didn't just sum up Emery's life! Might as well have been two points for existing without permission. He clamped down hard on the urge to roll his eyes at the prick and thankfully, the man moved on to his lesson. After about twenty minutes of monotonous lecturing on the dangerous natures of centaurs, Emery started to relax. Until a piece of paper was slid from the blonde to the ravenette.

"Why didn't you just sit next to her if you were going to do this?" He whispered irritably to the blonde.

"Oh," she smiled. "We're not allowed to sit next to each other in any of Professor Snape's classes anymore."

"Something you wish to share with the class, Ms. Brown?" Severus was suddenly standing between Emery and the girl.

"Not at all, Professor," Lavender shook her head as she reached back for the note.

Predictably, the Head of Slytherin House reached for and retrieved the folded parchment paper first. He unfolded it, read whatever was on it and then handed it to Emery. "Ms. Brown, detention tonight and twenty-five points from Gryffindor."

Swallowing hard, Emery read the lines. _Yuck! Can you believe he chose to sit by us? _The paper trembled in his hands as he worked hard to calm himself. _You never told me if you agreed with Ramilda or not, about him being blind or inbred! Tell me quick! I'm falling asleep over here. :( _

Both girls gasped as the parchment caught fire in his fingertips, each scooting their desks back from his. He let the paper burn to ash and watched as it fell about his hand and the surface beneath. He probably wasn't allowed to do that, but Snape had his back turned and didn't seem overly concerned.

Emery kept himself stoic, taking notes and doing everything he could to ignore the students around him and the things they were so keen to say about him. By the time the class was over, though, he felt drained. Professor Snape was a bully, as big a bully as both Slytherin and Gryffindor houses turned out to be.

As if he were evening some unknown score, his Head of House attacked and deducted points from Gryffindor at an alarming rate. They got an answer wrong, Gryffindor lost points. Even if they had the answer right, he'd dock them points if they didn't answer fast enough. Hell, he'd even docked Hermione Granger for raising her hand at every question asked while refusing to call on her. It wasn't hard to tell he did it to prevent her from getting the answer right and earning her house any points in his class.

The other houses and especially his Slytherin peers weren't bothered at all by the biased nature of Professor Snape. They seemed either indifferent or resolved to accept it as normal. He almost wished that he could ask one of his housemates about the unfair treatment, but he refused. He would not reach out to those who had no wish to associate with him.

He was the first one out of the class once they were dismissed. He needed to get out of the castle. He needed to breathe fresh air where he could think straight and–

"_Slugulus Electo!"_

Emery turned to face the boy as soon as the first syllable was sounded, waving his wand and catching the dark charm before winging it into the ground without a single word from his lips. Several students gasped and began to circle around him, but he didn't care. He zeroed in on his attacker. A boy in black and yellow with a nervous, though determined look on his face.

"What the Hell's your problem?" Emery demanded as he approached, ignoring the boy and the girl who stood on either side of his attacker.

He didn't know anything about the three Hufflepuff's before him, but he didn't care. He was attacked, _again_ for no reason that he could possibly discern. He wasn't aware that Hufflepuff's were so… so aggressive. Hadn't that Ron kid assured him they were pathetic? His mother certainly hadn't been the bullying type and he hadn't lied when he told the other kids his mother had been one.

"What. Is. Your. Problem?" he asked again.

"As if you don't know!" The boy to his attacker's left growled. He was a blond boy with bright blue eyes. He was only a few inches shorter Emery. "Justin here is a muggle-born and we know what you're about!"

Emery tilted his head and glanced to the nervous looking girl to the other side of his attacker, before returning his gaze to the red head. "What is it that you think I'm about, _Justin_ the muggle-born?"

"You were expelled from SHAWW," Justin accused. "We were told it was for killing a muggle-born wizard."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes as he took yet another step forward his right hand gripping his wand tightly. He ignored the shocked or curious stares and pinned the Hufflepuff with his fiercest glare. "You know Justin, if you truly believe I killed someone just for being born of no-maj's, that makes you either the bravest motherfucker in this school or the dumbest." He raised a brow as he looked over the frightened teen. "And since you look petrified, I'm betting on the latter."

"So, you, you didn't?" the girl asked softly, her courage slowly rising.

"Do you morons really think Dumbledore would allow a murderer into his school?" Emery growled at her. "Of course I didn't. Think of what you three are accusing me of! If you used your heads for a moment, you'd realize that if I had done something like that I'd be in a prison or even a Sanitarium! But I wouldn't be here in Hogwarts, now would I?"

The girl and Justin shook their heads, but the blond continued to glare hatefully at him. Emery's eyes narrowed on him, though he spoke to all three. "I will tell you this though." He curled his upper lip and finally brought his wand in view of the Hufflepuff trio. "If any of you ever, ever throw another curse, hex or jinx at me over a baseless rumor, I'll send the nastiest hex I know at you. You won't hear it coming, either. Got it?"

Thoroughly frightened, Justin nodded his head. He didn't give his blond housemate a chance to retort as Justin and the girl grabbed their friend and took off running down the hall. Emery stood completely still, watching to be sure they left the area and weren't going to try again. Not that he believed they would again, or at least not Justin and the girl. That blond kid seemed like a troublemaker.

Once out of sight, Emery did his best not to sigh or look morose. He didn't want the students surrounding him to think he was hurt or upset by what happened. He couldn't afford for them to think he was weak or easy prey. It's where he'd gone wrong in SHAWW. He waited until it was too late to stand up for himself and look at where it landed him!

He wasn't paying attention at all when he ran into a ditsy looking girl and Ginny Weasley. The blonde nearly fell as she was the one he'd primarily collided with. He reached out and grabbed her, preventing her from tumbling to the ground.

"I'm so sorry!" He blurted sincerely.

"Watch where you're going!" Ginny shouted up at him, the tomboy looking fierce and ready for a duel.

"Relax!" He spat forcefully, his eyes narrowed and his temper rising to match the red headed girl before him. "It was an accident!"

Before Ginny could argue, the other called his attention to her with a softly spoken, "Oh! Look at your wand!"

He tilted his head and looked down at it. "What about it?" He noticed that Ginny too had been distracted and turned her gaze to the wand still in his hand.

"It's a family heirloom, isn't it?" She smiled. "You didn't purchase your own. It was passed down."

"Yeah, so?" He wondered if that was a bad thing or not. It wasn't like he'd ever been in Europe. He gripped his wand tighter. He couldn't be ashamed of his wand, or especially how it had come to be his.

"I mean no offense. A lot of wizards and witches get new ones, but there's quite a few that have wands that are handed down, too. More than people think." She smiled in a lazy sort of way that made it easier for Emery to smile back. "If you don't mind, I'm actually doing a research paper for my Magical Theory class, and I'd like to interview you."

"Really? You're a seventh year?" He couldn't help but think she looked a little young. Younger even than him.

"Luna's a fifth year like me, actually." Ginny inserted with a roll of her eyes. "She's just advanced. Even for a Ravenclaw."

"Or at least I am in Magical Theory," Luna shrugged. "Oh, and Magical Creatures." She added quickly before she looked up at him and smiled with more enthusiasm then moments prior. "So, what do you say?"

He shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

"Wonderful! I'm Luna Lovegood. I assume you're the infamous Emery Graves?"

"Infamous already?" He sighed and shook his head, finally pocketing his wand.

"Between yelling at Slughorn about your name, causing Snape to take points from his own house and just now scaring the shite out of Ernie, Hannah and Justin, yeah," Ginny smirked. "I'd say you're well on your way to infamous. Even the teachers are whispering about you."

"Wonderful," he deadpanned. "When would you like to do this interview, Luna?"

"How about tomorrow during lunch?" As soon as he nodded, Luna skipped off, leaving her angry Gryffindor friend behind.

"Something else you wanted to say?" Emery frowned.

"Sorry about snapping at you a moment ago," the girl said, but she wasn't sincere. Just trying to be polite. He could tell by the steadfast scowl on her face and the way she stared at him suspiciously. "You just make me…"

"Nervous," He finished for her as he grabbed at his left forearm.

She nodded. "Next to Hermione and Neville, Luna's my best friend."

Sighing yet again, Emery looked up to the ceiling and muttered. "I get it, I get it. Okay?" He looked down, his angry expression matching hers. "I'm not going to hurt her or anyone else in this stupid school! Alright? So just…fuck off!"

The fifth year didn't respond. Or maybe he just didn't hear it. He'd bolted like the coward he was from the hall and run for the courtyard. He was feeling sick and anxious, but more than that, he was angry. Angry that he was in another country. Angry that his mother was nowhere to be found. Angry that he was in a school that treated him like some kind of monster.

But then…wasn't he?


	4. Debate In Action

**Chapter 4: Tuesday**

Theo and Draco sat beside one another on the Quidditch field as they studied for their first duel. They almost always came outside where they could study without being bothered by their housemates. The field was often empty of the other houses, too since Draco made a habit of having it closed for "practice" by Snape every day after lunch. It was Theo and Draco's free period for study and their Head of House had no problem at all with reserving it for his Godson and his best friend.

They always practiced and studied for duels the same way. First was reading. Extensive reading. Then came practice. First with ordinary sticks to get the wand waving and enunciations perfected. Then came practical practice with their wands. Wand work was never done on one another or anyone else for that matter. Not even the kids Draco hated most. The Slytherin Prefect had finally learned to be a little more controlled than to go around throwing combat spells at first- or second-year students as he had in the past.

Then again, the students Draco probably wanted to throw spells at weren't novices and they were likely to hurl a spell or two back at him.

"I noticed Emery didn't eat lunch or dinner yesterday." Draco mentioned in an attempt at sounding casual as he turned the page of his book. If Theo hadn't known him, Draco might have pulled it off. "Not that I care of course."

"Of course not," Theo shrugged, understanding what Draco wanted from him. "But if you did care, I could tell you that he was pretty miserable yesterday. He was hurt by whatever Brown and Patil were saying about him and then of course MacMillan just had to rile Finch-Fletchly into trying to curse him, too."

The self-proclaimed Prince of Slytherin looked confused and Theo wasn't sure what he should do. As a friend, he wanted to encourage Draco's reluctant compassion for other people. As a Death Eater's son, he wanted to discourage any type of curiosity about the American. If Draco wasn't careful, he was going to wind up in a lot of trouble.

"I should have stopped Pansy from spreading that rumor," Draco admitted softly. "He's one of us. It feels wrong to attack a fellow Slytherin."

"Especially one that didn't actually do anything to anyone?" Theo asked, but he'd been just as a silent. It was the one trait he hated most about himself. He was too cowardly to actually do what he wanted. To stand up for those he felt needed help or to laugh and play with those he got along with best.

"He was at lunch today," Draco whispered quietly. "Well, for a few minutes at least."

"Really, I hadn't seen him?" He doubted.

"He left just before you and Blaise came in. He walked in, went straight to Loony Luna and then they both left The Great Hall together." Draco shrugged.

Theo frowned. "Why Luna?"

"Who knows, but he didn't eat."

"Blimey, Malfoy!" He snapped irritably. "What are you? His mother?"

His friend blinked in surprise before his cheeks slowly brightened. "Piss off, Theo." He grumbled and went back to reading his book, looking embarrassed and angered.

He hadn't meant to snap at him, but he couldn't deny that he was more than a little interested in who Luna Lovegood spent time with. Especially when it came to other boys. Not that he should act on it, her father being the Editor of the Quibbler and all, but he couldn't help it. He'd like her from the moment she'd run through the castle barefooted. True she'd been looking for her shoes because they'd been stolen and hidden away by bullying housemates, but he was flabbergasted by her uniquely positive and accepting spirit.

No matter how meanly people spoke of her, or how cruelly they pranked her, Luna was the brightest, happiest person he'd ever met. She was a witch that inspired him to be better than he was. To be kinder than he was and to be better than what his father thought him capable of being. She was his muse.

"Your father's going to kill you if he finds out you're interested in her." Draco warned after several moments of silence between them.

"You think I don't know that?" Theo smirked. "Besides, at least the girl I like is a pureblood. Not only are you incapable of saying the same of the girl you like, but you can't say it of the guy you like either! Compared to you, I'm ahead of you by leaps and bounds. Not even your mother could save you if your crush on _her_ was ever discovered."

"At least she'd try!" Draco growled as he tossed his book in his bag and jumped to his feet. "You've got no one, Theo! No one. Don't you see that?" Draco demanded. "You just walk around doing what you like, when you like, with no caution at all! Like your father wouldn't beat you to death for merely looking at him wrong! No. You have to tempt fate by getting yourself all hung up on a girl whose very father is in opposition to your own!"

Blinking back the surprised and angry tears, Theo looked away from his best friend. It hurt. Not that he didn't know any of it, but that he _did_ know it. That he knew Draco wasn't wrong. Not about any of it. He had the scars to prove every single one of Draco's points. He crossed his arms and turned away from his best friend, an unspoken but long since agreed upon signal that they'd gotten the point but weren't willing to listen any further.

* * *

Hermione was struck by the sight of Luna Lovegood sitting with Emery Graves in the room of requirement at a small square shaped table with three chairs, one of which was obviously empty. She had summoned the room for a quiet place to study. Never had it opened with a pair of students already using it. She frowned and wondered why the castle wanted her to see whatever was happening between the two of them.

"Hermione!" Luna greeted with a bright smile. "You're just the witch I was thinking of!"

Ah. Well, that explained that.

"I happened to be in search of a room for studying in, but I'm always happy to help," Her eyes found Emery's and she offered a smile. "Hello, Emery."

"Hey," He nodded, but didn't return the smile. Instead he looked back at his wand, which was sitting on the table in front of him, staring as if it had somehow hurt or disappointed him.

"What can I help you with?" She turned her gaze back to the Ravenclaw girl.

"I am doing a study on the differences between wands that are new to a family and those that are passed down," Luna explained. Hermione nodded because she recalled hearing the girl talking to Ginny about it before and found herself a little envious of the task. Maybe she wanted a partner? "I can see that his wand is made of yew wood and is very clearly 13 ¾ inches in length. I have yet to determine what its core is."

Hermione nodded and joined them at the small table. She pulled out her dark brown wand and set it gently on the table. She was rather proud of her wand and the loyalty it had created with every spell she cast over the years.

"Hermione's is vine, 10 ¾ in length and has a dragon heartstring," Luna told Emery. "Mine is oak, 10 ½ in length and possesses a unicorn hair." Hermione watched as the acorn decorated wand was also set on the table, hers a greenish yellow color. "What I would like to do is see if there is a difference to me or Hermione holding your wand, Emery."

"That can be incredibly dangerous, Luna," She scolded. "The older the wand, the more loyal it is."

"You should be fine," Emery shrugged. "I've had my wand confiscated from me so many times I've lost count."

"Really?" She frowned. "Why?"

He shrugged his shoulders again and looked away. "Let's go ladies, I'm starving."

Luna caught Hermione's eye and nodded with an encouraging smile as she held a quill to a small bit of parchment, ready to take notes. With hesitant breath, Hermione frowned and peaked to Emery again to be sure. He appeared just as indifferent as ever before, his arms crossed, and his eyes narrowed on the wand that had been passed down at least once prior.

She took hold of the wand and squeezed her eyes shut, internally bracing for some kind of pain or surprise. Much to her shock, Hermione didn't feel anything. At all. It was as if she was holding a stick. A completely useless and unimbued piece of wood.

The white yew wood had a handle that was in the shape of an ancient column. It was Greek in style and had small chains carved around it. She followed the chain and found it spiraled up along the rest of the wand and then appeared to embed itself just before reaching the tip. It wasn't painted different colors, just white…white like Voldemort's.

She recalled having read that yew wood was considered rather dark in essence and was reasonably rare. As a matter of fact, she could only think of one person other than Emery who had a wand made of the same wood. Just as she'd noted its color matched that of Voldemort's, so too did the wood that created such a color.

She looked to Luna questioningly as she handed it over.

The same thing happened. That is to say, nothing. Most wands, even if they didn't find compatibility with a wizard or witch would at least leave a tingling of magic. For a moment, Hermione feared she wasn't a witch any longer and quickly grabbed hold of Luna's wand to be sure.

A sharp heat and a clear "no" when it literally jolted in her hand brought her great relief. She set Luna's wand down and picked her own up, delighting in the instant connection she felt in its gentle warmth. This was her wand. Touching Emery's hadn't sucked the power from her soul or body. She looked to Emery and handed her wand over.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Oh yes, please?" Luna asked as she finished scribbling notes on her paper. "Tell me exactly what you feel."

Almost as soon as his fingers touched her wand to take it, a snap of electricity forced his hand back. He jumped with a curse and brought his index and middle fingers to his mouth. Hermione was shocked. She'd never seen such a reaction before, but her wand did not like him at all. "Fuck, that hurt!" He exclaimed as shook his hand once or twice and then sat back down.

Luna stared at the boy expectantly.

"Seriously? You want me to touch yours now, too?" He groaned. She nodded. "You would." he muttered and reached out with the same injured hand and took hold of the wand.

To Hermione's and probably Emery's relief, the wand reacted the same way to him as it had her moment's prior with a jump and burning. Luna was extremely pleased and was once again writing hurriedly.

"Emery, do you mind giving permission to Hermione to hold your wand and if possible, practice a spell?"

"Why?" He frowned, setting Luna's wand down.

"Wands are extraordinarily fickle," Hermione explained. "I think Luna is trying to determine if the wand has old magicks on it to keep it in your family."

"OK, sure." Emery nodded. "Hermione, you have permission to pick up my wand and if it allows you, to cast _levicorpus_."

"Nice," Luna smiled and then looked to Hermione, once again ready to take her notes.

Picking up the wand this time, Hermione didn't note a single difference. She shook her head. "Nothing," She frowned. "Is that normal for wands this old?"

"No idea," Emery shrugged. "Wand Crafting and Theory was only taught as an elective for seventh years with special permission and letters of recommendation from at least three teachers."

Luna giggled softly and then turned to face her. "No, Hermione, it's not what you would call normal. Most wands will react to a person of magical ability touching them."

"Luna, you have permission to pick up my wand and if it allows you, to cast _levicorpus._"

Hermione watched, terrified that his wand was a racist. Would it let Luna cast a spell because she was a pureblood? Had the wand not worked for her because she was muggle born? With abated breath, Hermione found her hands clenched tightly as Luna took hold of the wand and then began to attempt a spell.

Nothing.

"I can't feel anything from it." Luna tilted her head. "Would you mind demonstrating that the wand is in in fact magical and that it's not a decoy that you didn't want us touching?"

Emery laughed. "That would be a huge waste of time if I brought a phony wand, don't you think?" He stepped away from the table and asked for a spell. "It has to be difficult enough to require a wand, Luna."

"How about a Patronus charm?" Luna suggested.

The taller boy snorted. "Yeah right," he rolled his eyes. "How about something we can _actually_ cast."

"Oh, Hermione and I can both cast the charm." Luna assured him.

Hermione didn't miss the look of awe as his eyes immediately found her own. That he was impressed was flattering. Luna may not have realized how difficult the spell was, but Emery certainly did, and he reacted reasonably to learning he was standing beside two witches with both the power and the purity of spirit to cast and create a corporeal patronus.

"Pick something else, Luna," she said softly.

"Right." Luna nodded. "Would you mind demonstrating a transfiguration spell on my rat?" She asked as she pulled out a pure white rat with pinks eyes and a pink tail, from her black and blue robes. "Turn him into something complex. Let's say a miniaturized but complete tea set for a doll."

"No." He shook his head. "I could kill your rat. I'm not good with living things." Hermione's brows furrowed at that and he quickly blurted; "I mean with transfiguration. I don't do well with turning living objects into non-living objects. How about the chair? I'll make it something living."

"Okay, that works." Luna agreed.

Watching him closely, Emery stood straight and tall, his eyes pinned to the table and chairs they'd been seated in when he flicked his wand in an array of movements. His lips, which she'd found rather nice the day before, never opened or let loose a syllable.

Immediately following the movement, the table became a cow and the three chairs turned to pigs. She wanted to be impressed by the feat, by the realization that he had used silent spell casting, but Luna was very happy to learn that the wand was indeed a wand. Now all the girl had to determine was why it only answered Emery's call.

Tucking some his hair behind his left ear, Emery smiled softly at the joyous expression on the blonde's face before he turned the animals back to inanimate objects. Luna was almost never a chatty or energetic person that Hermione had seen, but she had been chattering to herself rapidly about what it all meant and how much closer she was to proving some theory or other.

"I'll see you both back in the Great Hall!" She called before running out of the room and leaving Hermione alone with Emery.

"I should go, too. I didn't actually eat." Emery mumbled as he fiddled with his wand before putting it away.

There was something very odd about the boy and as she caught him clutching at his left arm again, she felt worried. In some of their interactions he'd been smooth and confident, in others he was nervous and shy. But in all their short minutes spent together over the past two days, Hermione found she was suspicious of the darkness that emanated off him.

That wand may not have been of any use in hers or Luna's hands, but now that she thought about it, once in Emery's there was something off about it. Like a taint or something dirty. He made her nervous and she wasn't sure why. She wasn't raised like the purebloods. Despite the world of magic that surrounded her, she wasn't superstitious. She didn't see his eyes as anything other than a genetic defect. She didn't fear things just because they were different.

"You should eat with me," she invited without thought.

"No, you don't want to eat with me," he snickered. "You just want to study me. Figure out what's wrong."

She blushed at how close to the truth he got but denied it with a shake of her head. "No, not at all. I…" She sighed and then nodded. "Yeah. You're right. I do. I want to prove to myself that I am being childish and cruel. I like you, Emery. I want to get to know you better."

The truth had visibly shocked him. His eyes brows shot up and his mouth twitched, like he didn't know if he should smile or frown at what she'd said. She blushed even more, feeling how hot her cheeks were as his lips slowly morphed into a smile.

"Thanks," he smiled. "For being honest with me." He approached her and she felt her heart race in both fear and excitement. "I'll take you up on your offer."

She couldn't help but join him in his shock. "Really? You will? What will your house think?"

"Fuck 'em," he shrugged. "Besides, you Gryffindors seem to think you're the only ones capable of being courageous or bold." He offered her his elbow as he stood at her side. "I'm obliged to prove you all wrong."

Taking his arm, she couldn't help but feel elegant and was more than a little pleased by the American's gallantry. She wondered if his parents were big on theatricality or maybe manners. Aside from his foul language, he had behaved rather well for a boy of sixteen or seventeen.

Upon entering the Great Hall, Hermione knew they had caught the attention of a lot of their fellow students. The Slytherins looked murderous, with Crabbe and Goyle in particular looking ready to stab Emery for such a betrayal. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of hell Emery was going to catch from his house peers. Having been on the receiving end of Slytherin hatred she knew it could get a lot worse than the nasty rumors they'd spread.

Still, what did it take to get on the bad side of his house? While she'd noticed a very obvious pecking order to the house of silver and green, she'd never seen them so hard on one of their own. They treated Emery as if he were a Gryffindor in Slytherin's clothing.

"Your house looks very upset," Hermione warned as they approached her house's table.

"No," he disagreed. "Only the majority of sixth year students looks upset. Most of the house could care less. Take a look. It's only our year in both of our houses that seem to give a shit."

Upon closer examination, Hermione was surprised to find that he was right. Only the students that she knew for a fact were sixth years were staring at them. And even then, only the group that Malfoy usually sat with. Though he was conspicuously absent.

"Hemione! What the bloody Hell are you doing bringing a Slytherin to our table?" Ron demanded as she started to take a seat. "Are you mad?"

Before she could speak, Emery took the empty space next to her and smile smugly, "On what grounds do you reject me?"

"The only grounds necessary!" Harry hissed as he got to his feet and stared down the newcomer. Now Hermione was right. The entire hall was watching them, regardless of house or year. "You're a Slytherin! Not only do you hate muggles, but you're likely to become a dark wizard, if not a Death Eater!"

"Bullshit," Emery snickered while Hermione did her best to catch her friends' attention. She pleaded silently with them both to stop. It was useless though because neither were willing to look at her. Their attention was focused solely on him. "Look, to be a good Slytherin candidate, one only needs to be ambitious, cunning, resourceful, and well," he paused and made a show of tilting his head. "I would have said intelligent but having met Crabbe and Goyle, that's clearly not the case."

She couldn't prevent her giggle from escaping and thankfully, neither could Dean, Ginny, or Seamus. Several students within ear shot had laughed. She wasn't sure if the Slytherin table could actually hear what their own housemate had said, but they were watching intently regardless.

"We also tend to be survivalists and yes, in a lot of cases, traditionalists, but there will always be exceptions to one or two traits in every house." As he spoke, Hermione heard the whispers of several charms to help groups all over the Hall hear what was being said, including a voice that sounded very much like Blaise Zabini.

"Name one decent Slytherin," Harry challenged furiously, his face bright red. She knew her friend could have a temper at times, but the level of animosity he was throwing seemed very out of character.

"Fine. Merlin for one. How about Professor Slughorn? You gonna call him a bad man? What about Professor Snape? Sure, he's an asshole, but is he really evil?" Emery shrugged, his tone calm and maybe even teasing. "I can tell you Potter, your hatred for Slytherin isn't any different than that of a blood-status zealot's hatred of no-maj's or no-maj borns. This bias isn't any different in my eyes.

"You hate and distrust all of the Slytherin house because of a stereotype based on a handful of jerks in our house. The jerks, who by the way, hate and distrust no-maj's without knowing more than like two." Emery's eyes widened as he grinned suddenly, "You know what? Maybe that's why? Maybe you're more Slytherin than you've been letting on!"

Cringing as her best friend clutched his wand tightly, she tugged on one of Emery's wavy locks, hoping to get him to stop. At least Harry hadn't actually pulled the weapon out, yet.

"How dare you compare me to those filthy murderers? My Godfather is dead because Slytherin is allowed to exist! I don't even know why we allow them in this school! Every one of them will grow up to be murderous, hateful Death Eaters, just like their parents!"

The entire hall was stunned into silence. Even the professors at the head table had been taken by surprise. Now, everyone present seemed to be watching in terrified curiosity of how the American would react to Harry's outburst. Hermione, for one, just wanted it to end. She never should have brought him over to the table. Ron was right. She'd gone mad thinking this wouldn't hurt Harry. He was still too raw from Sirius' death.

Finally, Emery stood. Calmly and without an ounce of anger he looked to his challenger and smiled. "Harry Potter, not all Slytherins are evil serpents out to get you. Did you know that in America, the serpent is used on most medical shields? Care to guess why? Because of its correlation to alchemy, a precursor to medicinal droughts. It's a symbol that's synonymous with life-saving care. From what I've read, a good chunk of Slytherins become healers or researchers for curative potions. Why? Because they want to help make our world a better place.

"We're not all murderers either. Some of us have lost our family. Some of us have lost our friends. Some of us have even lost them to Death Eaters. Some of us still, wish with all our hearts, for vengeance against the men and women who took them from us.

"Hell Potter, some of the greatest No-Maj's in the world would have been Slytherins had they been schooled here. I would bet Winston Churchill, Thomas Edison, Walt Disney, Margaret Thatcher, Theodore _and_ Franklin Roosevelt, Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Alan Turing! All probably would have been Slytherin if only they had that magical touch. Dude, even the Great fucking Gatsby would have been Slytherin. Every single tale you ever heard of a poor nobody becoming a rich, powerful and influential someone, was just as likely to be a Slytherin as they were a Gryffindor."

Hermione noted but wasn't shocked by the majority of her peers appearing confused over several of the names but of The Great Gatsby in particular. If they didn't, they were of the same opinion as her of the fictional character. "Emery, The Great Gatsby is widely considered a cautionary tale of the supposed "American Dream" and how evil ambition really is," Hermione stated softly, though with as quiet as everyone was, she didn't doubt that they heard her anyhow.

Emery grinned as he looked down at her. "Ambition _can_ be evil, kind of like the idea that progress for the sake of progress can also be evil. But innovation and ambition are what makes us great as a species! It's what pushes us to reach farther and work harder. The real lesson of the Great Gatsby was that falling in love with a shallow, self-absorbed idiot with a drinking habit will destroy all of your greatness and get you shot and killed by someone inferior." His eyes moved then to Harry and Hermione cringed again. "My point, Potter, is simply this. Don't judge me based on a few assholes and your interactions with them. I for one, certainly don't expect you to be a nice guy despite how kind everyone else in your house is."

Harry huffed and sputtered while Ron was rendered speechless. No one had ever spoken so openly in defense of the Slytherin house and honestly, Hermione couldn't help but find herself fascinated by the American's take or his way of seeing anything. She bet a lot of other students felt the same way considering how raptly they'd listened.

It looked as if her friend was about to speak, when Emery's eyes narrowed and he spoke again, though this time he looked all around him as he did so. "It's funny to me how you _all_ seem to forget how many of your own houses produced dark wizards and witches over the years. How many of your houses actually had Death Eaters among your ranks. I've studied both for nearly my whole life and trust me, Slytherin isn't even close to having the market cornered on their kind.

"You know why I think Slytherins are so openly despised?" Emery asked Harry, who only glared in response. "Because we aren't ashamed to reach for what we believe we deserve, because we're not afraid to use every damned resource at our disposal to attain our goals and most importantly, because we don't feel obliged to bow down and kiss the ass of any man, woman, or child who thinks they're better than us without proving it first!"

Hermione was startled as a roar of applause and cheering erupted from one side of the room. The cheer, which had only even been heard from the often quiet and reserved Slytherins during a quidditch match, shocked everyone else back into their usual raucous as they too began to discuss what they'd just heard and witnessed.

Biting her bottom lip, Hermione frowned as she looked to Harry. He'd been in a lot of battles, most of which had been deadly, but never had he been challenged to a debate. Not by his friends, not by his enemies and especially not by strangers. Harry didn't battle with words. Only with magic or on broomsticks. Emery stood waiting for a rebuttal, but Harry, Hermione was sure, was waiting for a physical attack of some kind.

He glared darkly with his green eyes at Emery, his face mottled a deep crimson as the rest of the school settled down and waited to hear his reaction. His hand was clasped around his wand and she watched as it trembled, but not once did it rise and nothing close to a spell was coming from Harry's lips. Finally, Harry took a breath and opened his mouth.

"A fine debate this has been, but I think it should be left to the proper venue," Albus spoke as he entered the Great Hall. "Mr. Graves, Mr. Potter, I would like to see you both in my office along with your heads of house."

* * *

Emery, Harry, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall sat quietly outside of the Headmaster's office staring at an ugly gargoyle. The other three didn't seem overly _un_comfortable with the setting. Actually, from what Emery could tell, they all appeared rather used to it. He wondered how often the two teachers were in this exact situation. How often did they find themselves escorting a student or more from their houses to be dealt with by the Headmaster?

Miserably, Emery felt sick. He wanted to be calm like Potter, but he had a feeling that Potter was only calm because he wasn't actually in trouble. It was pretty easy to see that Emery had antagonized and maybe even bullied a traumatized wizard in front of the entire school. Harry Potter's name wasn't lost on him. The consequences of Voldemort's return were felt everywhere in the world, not just in the United Kingdom.

His hands trembled and he didn't want anyone to see, but his left arm itched again. He gripped it tightly with his right hand, hoping that the motion would settle both the trembling and the itching. He caught Harry's vibrant green eyes as they focused on the movement.

"Professor, this isn't fair," Harry whispered to the woman draped in green and black. Emery wondered if she tried to look like the Wicked Witch of the West or if it was merely happenstance. Either way, she wore a lot of green for a Gryffindor.

"Hush, Potter," She bristled.

Emery dared a peak at his professor and caught the man's beady black eyes rolling irritably as he crossed his arms in a petulant manner that seemed to embody Harry's earlier complaint. Of the four, Emery decided that the transfiguration teacher was likely the most mature in the party. It didn't surprise him, both his great grandfather and his mother had often teased that men never really matured, they just found better ways of hiding their childishness.

"Mr. Graves," The witch called to him. "How has your time in Hogwarts been?"

He blinked, surprised at the friendly tone of the Gryffindor teacher. He shrugged, unsure of what to say. It had been pretty awful, but guests shouldn't actually complain to their hosts. Or so he'd been taught. But then, shrugging was also rude. Something his great-grandfather had never been able to break him of.

Beside him, Snape huffed impatiently.

"For a boy who so bravely defended his house, I must confess I find your reluctance to speak surprising," The witch smiled gently. "Are you under the impression that you are in some kind of trouble, Mr. Graves?"

"Aren't I?" He frowned in confusion.

"No," Snape answered before she could. He looked to his Defense teacher in question. "If we know the Headmaster as well as we think we do, you've likely given him a stroke of inspiration with your debate and you two have found yourselves the unfortunate guinea pigs for his newest idea."

Professor McGonagall chuckled. "It's more likely to be seen as punishment by the rest of the school and yourselves than he intends it."

Snape snorted in the affirmative, the closest thing to a laugh that Emery had thus far heard from the man. He looked to Harry to see how he bore the situation, but Harry seemed just as taken aback by the behavior as he was. Were these two teachers as fierce rivals as their students? Was their behavior out of the ordinary?

"It can be rough being new, but I am sure you will find yourself adapting easily," The witch smiled again. "You were a Slytherin in SHAWW as well?"

"I was," he confirmed. "Though, there wasn't as much of stigma about it in Salem as there seems to be here."

Harry looked as if he were going to speak up until McGonagall's hand grabbed hold of his shoulder and gave a squeeze. Emery wasn't sure if it was meant to be supportive or censuring. He didn't have enough of a rapport with the woman or Harry to know for certain one way or the other.

"Much of the history is mired in drama," Snape shrugged. "A lot of the drama becomes lost to those that didn't live in it. The rivalry, while very much alive, is far friendlier and more casual in Salem."

"Yeah," Emery nodded. "But then, we weren't housed together all year. We spent eight hours a day together and that was it. We went back to our homes and had weekends and holidays off."

"Mmm, it would be easier to ignore or let of go of grievances with so much time spent apart," McGonagall agreed.

"I'd live here year around if I could," Potter added but it was said in such a quiet, wistful tone that Emery was sure he wasn't really speaking to anyone in particular.

"It must have been difficult after all these years to leave your mother and father," McGonagall ventured when the conversation started to lull.

Emery knew she hadn't meant anything by it, but the words both hurt and infuriated him. Especially when Harry rolled his eyes and looked away. "Never had a father," Emery spat, trying to control his rage. "and I don't know how difficult it was for my Mother, but considering she disappeared just after fourth year I've been pretty used to it."

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Graves," The witch offered. "I had no idea. Were you staying with family?"

"No." Emery shook his head, trying not to be overtaken by his bitterness. "Mom left me with her best friend but being a no-maj she couldn't really..." he paused awkwardly and tried to think of how to word it. "She wasn't much of a match against me—"

He cut himself off immediately, not wanting to bury himself further with information he shouldn't really have been sharing. He wasn't sure why he'd added that last bit, but he had, and it was too late to take it back. He blushed and glared at the floor, unwilling to see how they looked at him. He hadn't meant to be so hard on Maggie, but the woman wasn't…She wasn't his mom and she tried so hard to be and he'd lost both his temper and his control several times.

"Mr. Potter has plenty of experience losing his temper with muggles," Severus sneered. "You two seem to have a lot in common."

Harry's nostril's flared as he glared at Severus. "My mother died protecting me, his abandoned him. There's a difference!"

Emery didn't think, didn't flinch. Just reacted. He lunged for Potter, intending to punch him square in the jaw, but a silentFull Body Bind froze him in place. He wasn't sure who cast the spell, but he noted that both teachers moved forward, Snape to catch hold of him and McGonagall to pull Harry back. He looked toward the gargoyle which was now a set of spiral stairs with Dumbledore standing on them.

"Mr. Potter and Professor McGonagall, I think it best we head upstairs and have a chat," the man announced looking and sounding disappointed. "Severus, if you wouldn't mind mending your student and ensuring he understands the rules of our institution regarding physical violence, I'll be down for you both shortly."

* * *

As soon as the trio climbed the stairs, Snape released Emery from the bind he'd placed over his student. He watched as the American turned on him, but not with violent intention, rather with expectation of violence. He was bracing himself for some kind of strike or attack. It was written in his cowering body language and shown in the frowning but accepting expression on his face.

Snape's left brow raised in both shock and concern. "Are you expecting _me_ to attack, you Mr. Graves?"

The boy hesitated a moment before nodding. Severus doubted teachers in the states would attack him and yet, he had to admit, he had pushed the boundaries with students he didn't care for in the past himself. He recalled gripping or placing firm hands on nearly every Weasley at least once during their tenure at the school and he knew he'd gone after Harry on numerous occasions. But never had he actually _struck_ a student.

"Why didn't you hex or curse him?" Severus asked. "Why was your first instinct to attack him physically? Why not magic?"

"I would have killed him."

Would have, Severus noted with a frown.

"No, I didn't mean that, I meant… I meant if I had used my magic… If I'd slipped—"

The boy looked miserable as he once again silenced himself. He could take a guess though. Harry did have tendency in bringing out the worst in both his student peers and the staff at Hogwarts. "If you let loose your magic, you weren't sure you could have reined it back in. You could have done more damage than you wanted."

"Yeah," Emery said softly.

He conjured a couple of chairs and invited the boy to take a seat wordlessly with a wave of his hand. When they were both seated, he assessed the boy from behind the curtain of his black, greasy hair. Emery was sitting quietly, but his right hand held his left forearm like a vice. He'd noticed it a few times, he'd also noticed how moody the teen was but hadn't determined if that was just teenage angst or something more.

Emery's curly black hair was mostly pulled back, though several thick strands had fallen loose around his pale face. Familiarity tugged at Severus as that pale blue eye of Emery's stared determinedly at the stone floor beneath their feet. His face was full of proud features. His nose, while a little crooked and slightly hooked at the bridge, fit his face well. It offset his sharply defined lips. Lips Snape was sure he'd seen before. But when? And where?

"Could you, you know, stop staring at me and just yell or something?" Emery snapped as he finally let go of his arm and turned to face him.

"Do I seem like the type of man to yell?" Severus sneered.

"You're a silent screamer. You don't actually use the volume of your voice, but you say things to rip your students down and you make sure to humiliate them. Your actions are far louder than your words and you know it. I'd rather you yell at me than wait for you to do something fucked up in front of the others."

"Is that what I did with the note yesterday?" He asked, not liking how quickly the boy had gotten to know his tactics and in particular, not enjoying how accurate he was.

Emery shook his head. "I guess not,"

"Why did you sit with those girls? Why didn't you sit with Zabini and Holladay?" He asked the question that had gnawed at him since the previous morning. "Why not Granger and Longbottom?"

Emery's dual colored eyes stared up at him with incredulity. "You made it very clear to me that I was to stay away from Draco and _all_ of his friends! You isolated me from them! Hermione's friends had done the same just before we got to class. They told me to stay the Hell away from her. I had no choice but to sit next to those shallow little cu—"

"Your language is beyond foul, Mr. Graves," Severus interrupted before Emery could finish speaking. "It amazes me that in the Great Hall you spoke as well in defense of our house, yet when faced with attacks to your person you become vulgar and tactless.

"You will find that your words carry more barbs when they are subtle, indirect and at times, even a little vague. To leave the most impact all an insult need do is allow the victim's own fears and insecurities to play on your words. This is a skill most of your peers have already begun to master over the past few years." He lectured. "Use that head of yours and think before you speak. You will find that very difficult at first, but eventually you will see the fruits of your labor blossom."

Angered and clearly insulted, the boy shook his head. "My words carried plenty of impact. Everyone in our house seemed to approve when they cheered me on."

"Only to overly emotional and easily triggered fools like Harry Potter do your actual insults make an impact. Thoughtless twits are easy to enrage and befuddle. When you spoke to Potter in the Great Hall you were still being crass, but you weren't actually insulting. You were defending and you were much more effective as a speaker.

"You defended Slytherin boldly and in a likable and relatable way, something no one has done in the past five or six years for fear of upsetting Potter." He explained with yet another sneer on his face. He couldn't help it. The boy and the preferential treatment shown him enraged Severus and it always had. The Potter was no different than his father. "It was very Gryffindor, and most believe you chose their bumbling, loud style to emphasize your point and add insult to injury against the house of crimson and gold. I, however, know that they have given you far too much credit."

The boy didn't outwardly flinch or blush at the man's words, his young face remaining cool and collected. Inwardly, however, Snape could feel him wince as if he'd been burned by a flame. While Snape wasn't actively attempting to read the boy's mind, his past fifteen years or so as a teacher were enough to know what was going on in his head.

"Why can't I be around the sixth year Slytherins?" Emery asked bluntly.

Snape scoffed. "You tell me, Mr. Graves. Why would be supremely stupid to befriend _sixth_ year Slytherins?" he challenged.

"It's not like anyone knows who I am here. Potter and Malfoy might be world famous because of their parents but I'm not," Emery snapped.

Severus glared. "Why are Malfoy and Potter famous? Why would we try to limit the access children have to either boy, but perhaps in particular, to known Death Eater's children?"

Emery sighed. "Wait, so you… you're _protecting_ me from them?" When Snape didn't answer the boy raised his face to the ceiling and leaned back. "Great!" He snapped sarcastically. "Just fucking…." Again, his right hand moved to clutch at his left forearm.

Just as Severus began to ask him about it, the Headmaster appeared. "Mr. Graves, Severus, come on up and join us." The old wizard might have tried to sound inviting but both he and his student knew better. It wasn't a request.

If it had been, neither would have accepted.

* * *

Theo sat quietly on his bed trying to focus on his homework. Unfortunately, he was distracted. Not only by Luna standing so close to Emery during their Care of Magical Creatures class earlier, but what he and Malfoy had discussed after their lunch period. He was torn between jealousy and fear. To his great shame, fear seemed to be winning out.

Even if Luna never reciprocated his feelings, his father could still figure it out and if he did, what then? As his best friend had so cruelly pointed out, Theo didn't have someone in his corner. There wasn't a loving mom who would do anything, possibly even sacrifice her own life, to protect him. At the very least, Malfoy had that in Narcissa.

He stared at his Magical History book, trying to make sense of the words in front of him, when his door finally opened, and Emery walked in carrying a large stack of old year books. He tilted his head curiously and smirked. "Hey, Emery, need a hand?"

"Nope," came the immediate reply. "I got it."

"I can see that," Theo smiled. "Why though?"

"Why what?" Emery asked.

"Why do you have all those yearbooks?"

"Research," he answered and to Theo's surprise, expanded without prompting. "I need to learn more about this school and the people that have and currently do attend it. I am severely lacking in personal connections and understanding. It's driving me crazy. I don't know why the people who are friends are friends or why they're enemies."

Theo smiled finding the project a little interesting. "I could help if you wanted?"

"Yeah, right," Emery snickered. "Snape and the rest of you have made it perfectly clear that I am not welcome to interact with the majority of you."

He wanted to argue, he was argumentative by nature, but he stopped himself. Before he laid into the foreigner or denied anything he'd been accused of, he reflected on the past couple of days. He couldn't deny Emery had been severely abused by many in the school over the past fifty hours or so. Hogwarts had not represented itself well and the Slytherins had by far been the worst.

He'd wanted to tell Pansy off for spreading rumors as much as Draco had, but neither did. They couldn't. Emery was a threat in many ways the kid probably didn't understand, but to be fair, they were to him as well. Why he'd been sorted into their house was still a mystery to him, but Emery was right. They were all needed to avoid him. Snape's warning hadn't just been to Graves that night.

The problem was, Theo wanted to obey his Professor, but he also wanted to get to know Emery. He had always been a very curious lad.

"So, what happened earlier today? All three houses have been really…on edge since lunch ended?" Theo tried.

He'd heard there'd been a huge fight between Harry and Emery, though Daphne Greengrass insisted it had been a vigorous debate and nothing more. He was inclined to believe her, but the way everyone in the other houses side-stepped Emery most of the day had him questioning her story.

"Oh, that?" Emery blushed. "Well, I was having lunch with a Gryffindor student and Potter got up in my face about how all Slytherins are evil murderers."

"Why on Earth would you argue with Dumbledore's Chosen One?" Theo couldn't help but laugh. "If you were trying to fly under the radar, you made a major mistake."

Emery nodded. "I hadn't even realized everyone turned to watch or charmed our argument to listen in. I was so pissed I couldn't help but rip into him. I didn't want to! But I didn't like what he was saying at all. I mean, I get he's been through a lot but why does he just get to decide who's good and who's evil without even trying to get to know me?"

Theo snorted, "Mate, Harry Potter's popularity goes up and down every year, but no matter what end of the spectrum he's on, it's pretty much guaranteed that if he's involved the entire school will watch. You chose your opponent poorly."

"I wouldn't mind if he wasn't such a hypocrite!" Emery practically shouted as he finally set his large stack of books down on his bed. Once free of their weight he paced in the small quarters. "Who is he to judge? Who is he to, to call us all murderers? We're called Slytherins; not Death Eaters!"

A strange feeling turned in Theo's stomach as he blinked at the words his roommate had spoken. It almost felt like excitement, like hope. They _were_ Slytherins. They weren't Death Eaters. They didn't_ have_ to be Death Eaters. They didn't _have _to be the monsters that some of their parents were. They could be more. They could be better.

As the American continued to rant on about the houses and their prejudices, Theo let the phrase sink in. Let it touch him soul deep. His survivalist nature had often caused him to be a follower and to go along with cruel pranks of Draco's and the other children they'd grown up with. At times it had been difficult to stand by Draco's side. To watch him lash out at others and laugh at the misery of students that didn't deserve his venom or immaturity. But with Crabbe and Goyle watching, he'd laughed along with Draco instead of reeling him back.

"I like that," he said softly with a small grin. "We're called Slytherin; not Death Eaters."

* * *

Emery paused as he heard the boy's whispered words. He gripped nervously at his left forearm and took a seat on his own bed. He had really, really wanted to make friends here. Especially Theo and Draco. He didn't know why, but he'd been drawn to them both. Draco had been a complete ass and still likely was, but he seemed to have moments of doubt that Emery found captivating and pleasant.

"What happened in the end? Daphne and Pansy said you and Professor Snape had to go see the Headmaster." Theo asked.

"Oh yeah," He rolled his eyes. "You're never going to believe this shit!" He shook his head and pulled the tie out of his hair. "He told Harry and I that we both have to create a ten-man debate team. Each team must consist of at least one student from all four houses but can't include the first, second, third, or seventh year students.

"He said he was proud to see us having a sporting conversation about our houses and that if we, as a school, could be more open in non-magic based settings, we might learn to get along better. He said something about learning how to accept and tolerate differences and perspectives in one another. That would be what saved us in the long run."

"Nothing cryptic about that," Theo laughed but then fell silent for several moments. "That man never ceases to amaze me." He chuckled at some inside joke or maybe just something Emery hadn't learned to find funny yet, and then the smile fell. "What did Professor Snape do?"

"He told Professor Snape and McGonagall that they, along with Professor Sprout and Flitwick, were to find staff that could act as non-biased judges. He said either he or they could come up with debate topics for us," Emery cringed, recalling the incensed look up on Snape's face. "Professor Snape was so mad I thought for sure he was going to start docking points again. But he didn't, which really surprised me."

"You'll find that Snape rarely, if ever, punishes our house. It's why he gets so bloody irate when he has to. He hates the other houses too much to put us at such a disadvantage. Everyone hates us, including non-Slytherin staff. We have way more professors out to get us, which is why Snape takes so many points from the other houses." Theo explained. "Or at least that's how most of us see it. Trolley and Blaise came up with the theory last year."

Emery rolled his eyes again. "While I get what he's trying to do, I don't think he's stopped to realize that by docking the other houses like that, he's only encouraging the other professors to be more aggressive with us."

"Hence the reason he doesn't dock us," Theo laughed. "All in all, Emery, I have to say that Dumbledore just rose in my esteem. I would have thought for certain you'd have been punished. Was Potter buggered?"

"Buggered?" Emery frowned; not quite sure he understood the slang. "Well, he's furious if that's what you mean. He was so angry he didn't even look at me or our professors. Probably over having to pick a Slytherin to be on his team, that's when he got really quiet."

Emery intentionally left out Harry's comments about his mother or his own violent response to them. It didn't seem right to add fuel to the fire that was Slytherin's hatred for Harry Potter. Not to mention, he didn't really want anyone knowing how upset he was over the comment.

"Just once I wish someone other than Snape would really lay into him. He's not perfect," Theo hissed. "He breaks more rules than anyone in this school, but because he's Dumbledore's favorite, the staff just spoils and worships him. He never gets in trouble and by the end of every year he's some kind of hero and yet despite all that, ever year he returns he's a bigger twat than before!"

While Emery normally would have loved to jump aboard the "Let's Hate Potter" bandwagon, there was something he was pretty sure Theo had either forgotten or was outright ignoring. The same something that he wished he'd recalled when bitching about or arguing with Potter earlier.

"I haven't been here for the past five years, but one thing I know to be true is that his Godfather really was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange when You-Know-Who returned. Not only is that Malfoy's aunt, but Draco's own father, along with several of your parents, were the ones who helped her kill the very last of Potter's family." He bit at his bottom lip and shrugged. "Can you really say that the pain of a loved one's death wouldn't make you more than a little moody? Death is hard enough, but when you know its cold-blooded murder? Wouldn't it make you bitter or hateful to anyone related to or involved?"

He knew he ought to be cautious in how he spoke to his house peers, especially since he was fairly certain Theo was also one of the Death Eater's children. He was exactly the sort of student he'd been warned away from just hours ago with Professor Snape and all his life from his mother.

"Yeah, ok, but it doesn't make the favoritism or his behavior right." Theo disagreed.

"Doesn't it? Snape doesn't even try to be fair _especially _when dealing with Gryffindor house. His behavior only antagonizes Potter's. And really, which one is supposed to be the adult?" Emery pointed out.

His roommate looked supremely uncomfortable and Emery knew he was trying to come up with a justification or a rebuttal, but in the end, Theo simply picked up a book and got back to his homework. Emery frowned and tried not to take it personally as he picked up the oldest yearbook in his possession. He'd tried to reach out to Theo, even if he wasn't supposed to, and that's all that he could do.


	5. Altercations of Many Types

**Chapter 5: Wednesday**

Emery was exhausted as he sat in the common room, sucking down some kind of terrible hot tea that a house elf had brought to him. He'd been up since five am trying to research the different houses and the more famous lines. He'd taken several notes, circled some faces with a highlighter he brought from the states. He knew they were supposed to avoid "modern" luxuries when it came to writing or crafting, but _nothing_ replaced a green highlighter.

Several students, mostly seventh years, had gotten up throughout the morning but they let him be. Only as the hour grew did the common room become filled with his peers of differing years. The vast majority went to the great hall for breakfast, but a small chunk remained. Most were studying or quizzing one another for mid-week evaluations, but Emery didn't mind. The buzz had become so constant it became white noise that he was pleased to find he could ignore.

"Hey, Freak," Crabbe snarled, and Emery looked up with a glare. "You some kind of mud-blood sympathizer?"

Emery took a deep breath before he forced himself to look up from the small coffee table he was seated at. He had his legs crossed beneath the furniture as he'd sat on the floor to allow some third years to sit on the couch behind him. He didn't like sitting so far beneath the two larger boys. It wasn't a defensible position at all.

"Crabbe," Trolley's voice rang through the air. "Let's go then, we're hungry!" She stood beside Blaise, Pansy, Theo, and Draco.

Emery took the distraction to get to his feet as he stared the two boys down. He glanced down and saw that both boys had their hands clasped around their wands. "What's your issue?"

"We saw you!" Goyle grumbled. "We saw you sitting with Hermione Granger."

"Oh, I get it now," Emery feigned surprised. "My mistake. Honestly. I forgot that guys like you get jealous of that sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" Gregory Goyle asked before Vincent could snap at Emery.

"The fact that I'm at least attractive enough to date a girl, while guys like you have to settle for barnyard animals." He sneered. "I mean, the noises alone have got to be awful. I really do pity you both. Then again, just looking at you two, it clearly runs in the family."

Emery felt a spell charge off Goyle's wand but didn't hear what it was. He also didn't get his wand up fast enough to block it. He felt Greg's fist first, then Vincent's before he dropped to his knees, grimacing as his head spun. He waved his wand, disarming them both before getting to his feet and throwing a punch at each boy. He only ever got the one apiece, after that, fists and stomping feet rained down on him until shouting and wand waving put an end to the beating.

Beating, because he'd certainly gone down too fast to call it a fight.

Trolley and Blaise, the two most neutral Slytherins in the house, helped him to his feet as they both glared boldly at Crabbe and Goyle. "I'll get him to, Madam Pomfrey," Blaise told the girl gently. "You alright, man?"

"Are you?" Emery asked, trying to ignore his throbbing head and aching ankle. "You gonna get yourself killed?"

As they made their way through the crowd of students, Blaise helped him limp out of the dungeon and chuckled. "No. Those blighters aren't my friends. They aren't friends of my family's either, so nothing they say or do can affect me outside of the school."

"Cool." Emery smirked. "Wanna join my debate team?"

"I've got enough going on with Slug Club, Quidditch, and my own studies, but thanks," Blaise laughed.

Emery eased himself off Blaise's shoulder and tested the weight on his ankle. Luckily nothing felt broken, except maybe his big fucking nose. He touched it gingerly and tried to hide the undignified whimper. "My great-grandfather always said that was the trouble with noses," He tried to joke as he walked beside the other Slytherin.

"They make the easiest targets," Blaise finished. "Yeah, my Da taught me the same thing. You should try keepin' your fists up when you throw about insults as easily as you do. Might save you some pain."

Emery laughed. "It's good. I'll be fine." He insisted as he stopped to lean against the hall's brick wall. He looked back to see Trolley running to catch up. "I think your girl's looking for you."

Blaise smiled confidently and nodded. "Yeah, she is. You gonna be okay on your own? I'm kind of worried that we need to go settle things down back there."

"Totally fine." Emery nodded. "I can get to the medical wing easy."

The shorter boy stared at him skeptically but considered the options as Trolley approached. "Crabbe and Goyle are terrified of being suspended. You shouldn't have any trouble, Emery," She smiled to him, but her eyes immediately returned to Blaise. "Come on, let's get him to Pomfrey. If we hurry, we might be able to make the second half of Potions."

"You guys are skipping potions?" Emery frowned.

"It's best to get you in to see Pomfrey and she'll want to be thorough, trust me," Trolley explained.

Emery wanted to smile at her for her kindness, but he knew his lip was already split and he didn't want to embarrass himself. "You guys don't need to. I really am fine, trust me. I've been through this a few times in the past."

"Well, when you accuse someone of being into bestiality…" Blaise snickered with a roll of his dark brown eyes. "Listen, we'll make sure you don't get jumped and help you get to the infirmary, then we'll run straight to Potions, alright?"

Emery nodded as Trolley held his left hand and Blaise helped support him on the right. His ankle was feeling a lot stiffer the more they moved, but he was sure that a couple droughts would make everything better. Still, he couldn't deny that it felt good to have some help as he limped his way to Madam Pomfrey.

* * *

Severus Snape sat uncomfortably at his desk in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. His head was aching from a lack of sleep, his stomach ill from being empty for so long. Lord Voldemort didn't care to keep track of time and so after calling all of his followers to him late last night, he kept his Death Eaters at the Malfoy manor until classes begun. Snape struggled through his first-year class and was not at all looking forward to dealing with his sixth years.

He watched with increasing annoyance as his students filed in silently. He'd long since broken this particular group of their noisy entrances years ago by taking up to twenty-five points from each student until they figured out that they needed to keep their mouths shut. Severus had always hated mornings as it was, and loud students only served to make him more volatile.

His black eyes followed each student to their seat as he mentally took roll. His groggy irritation was temporarily shunted as he watched several of his own students wander into the dark and gloomy classroom. Theo Nott lead the way along with Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. They appeared no worse for wear, nor did Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass or Trolley Holladay. Vincent Crabbe however followed with a black eye along with Gregory Goyle who had a busted, swollen nose. Emery Graves came in behind them with a busted and fat lip, a black eye, and what appeared to be a poorly mended broken nose.

Several of the Gryffindor students, the 'Golden Trio' above all, stared curiously at the three Slytherins. It was evident that one of the combatants had cast a Vanity's Disgrace spell. Casting it made sure that whoever fought in the vicinity of the spell wouldn't be able to hide any wounds received, healed or not. Snape was positive it would have been Gregory Goyle to cast it. Goyle senior had always been particularly fond of it as he enjoyed brawling and seeing his handywork on his victims. Obviously, the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree.

He heard several girls in his class gasping before joining in what was now a frenzied whispering. He had no doubt that since there had been no point deductions this morning, the fight occurred between the three boys in confines of their own dorms. Wizards rarely fought without magic, so to see their faces bruised and swollen was a shock to most of the teens in class.

"What do you think happened?" Ronald Weasley asked just as he'd moved to the chalkboard and begun to write out their assigned reading for next class.

"Fifteen points, Mr. Weasley, for interrupting." He snarled without looking away from the black board.

Hermione watched as Ron blushed a bright red while he glared murderously at the black robed professor's back. Harry joined him, no doubt adding yet another reason to hate Professor Snape to an already massive and still growing list. She didn't like it, but wisely kept her mouth shut; though her eyes wandered to Emery more than once to try to determine what had happened. All that she could ascertain was that he'd borne the brunt of the fight.

"Twenty points, Miss Granger, for inattentiveness." The professor barked as he finally turned to face the class. He looked all too pleased to see the fury she wasn't capable of masking quickly enough. Looking to the side of her, she knew Harry wouldn't keep quiet, but thankfully, it wasn't her friend's voice that broke the silence next.

"Seems a bit unfair, Professor Snape. You had to yet to speak, you were clearly unprepared for class yourself." Emery challenged, drawing gasps from herself and the rest of their peers. "Besides, I have no problems with Hermione Granger staring at me. We all know I'm the most attractive sixth-year present."

Ron nearly choked beside her as Harry's eyes went wide with disbelief. Hermione too, was stunned as the boy called out his own Head of House. The rest of the Slytherin students watched him with hateful, vengeful expressions. Lavender and Parvati tried to move their desks further from his.

Their Defense instructor however, held back all his fury behind a mask of unamused censure. She was impressed at how he handled it considering she truly believed he'd never been called out by a student from his own house before.

"Come on, Professor, where's my deduction of house points?" Emery glared, his dual colored eyes challenging the man with raging fury. "Or are you just as biased as everyone else in school?"

"Shut your mouth, Graves!" Crabbe shouted from his seat beside Goyle and Millicent Bulstrode.

"Or what? You'll remind of how hard your mama hits?" Emery snapped as he stood, his movement shoving the desk in front of him forward and almost into Seamus ahead of him.

Blinking, Hermione's eyes returned to their Professor. He'd never lost control of a class before, but to lose it to his own students? The pale man's black eyes were intently focused on Emery and Hermione wondered if he wasn't acting on purpose. Did he want to see what the boys would do to each other? His inaction terrified her.

Crabbe too, jumped to his feet while Goyle smiled smugly. Emery had clearly underestimated his professor's protection of his own. She felt bad for him. Emery likely didn't know that Snape was as much a Death Eater in ranks as Goyle and Crabbe's fathers were. He wasn't likely to blow his cover to protect Emery from them, and yet, could he reasonably get away with allowing his students to fight?

She watched as Emery stood defiantly, his gaze daring Crabbe to come after him. More whispering spread all around her as she looked to her own two best friends. Harry eyed Emery suspiciously while Ron looked thrilled by what they were likely to see. Her eye was also caught by Lavender and Parvarti who stared at the boy in their row with stunned excitement.

Just as Crabbed tried to leave his desk, he struggled to step forward, his face contorted with frustrated confusion. She peaked under her desk and looked toward his. She released a sigh of relief as she saw that the soles of Crabbe's shoes now looked like thick rubber roots. Roots that had been driven into the cobblestone floor beneath them, effectively trapping him in place.

"Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, what spell is keeping Crabbe rooted in place?" The soft baritone voice of Professor Snape's question brought all eyes back to him.

When Malfoy too looked beneath the desks, Malfoy responded immediately. "_Calcitrapa._" The former Potions teacher nodded and encouraged him to continue. "It's Latin for foot trap."

Part of Hermione wanted so badly to roll her eyes as bitterly has Harry had just done, though another part of her was a little impressed. Most of Gryffindor had convinced themselves that Draco's father bought and paid for his excellent grades.

"Twenty-five points Draco, well done," Professor Snape congratulated as his eyes moved next to Pansy. "Tell me, Ms. Parkinson, who cast the spell on Mr. Crabbe and how was it cast?"

While Pansy thought about it, Hermione desperately wished to raise her hand, but since he'd actually started to deduct points from her every time she did, she knew it was best not to indulge the urge. "It was cast silently, Professor Snape." Pansy paused a moment and then smiled. "By Emery?"

"Ten points to Ms. Parkinson. The spell was cast silently." He turned suddenly from his student and faced herself, Harry and Ron, his eyes narrowing. "Who cast the spell, Potter?"

Hermione frowned as she knew Harry and Ron thought the man was setting them up for failure. Anytime he called on either boy, they complained for hours that he was trapping or tricking them. Hermione wasn't so sure. If she was really being honest with herself, she felt like this particular moment was a message. Like he was trying to tell her best friend something. Something important. She knew Professor Snape could be cold and harsh, but so far, he was able to provide a reasonable explanation for his methods about seventy percent of the time.

As Harry took his time, Hermione's gaze moved over the class. Who could cast a silent spell that would want to? At first, she thought Pansy had been right, that Emery had been the one to cast the spell. She'd seen him practice wordless magic once already and had heard from Ginny that he'd done it on the first day as well.

So, who else might be learned and skilled enough to be good at casting silent spells? She could see Harry was focused on Malfoy, but she doubted it was him.

"Draco Malfoy?" He answered before she could nudge him.

Turning away to avoid Professor Snape's smirk of triumph, she caught Emery at the back of the class rolling his eyes. "That's minus fifteen points from Gryffindor, Potter." Snape said before he finally looked to her. She smiled, hoping he'd call on her, but instead he too looked back to Emery. "Mr. Graves, who silently cast_ calcitrapa?_"

"You did, Professor Snape." It wasn't a guess or question for once.

"Twenty points, Mr. Graves, _if_ you can tell me why?"

"Two reasons," Again there was a no doubt in his voice, just confidence that he knew the answer. She wondered why she found that trait attractive in Emery, but loathsome in boys like Draco or Cormac. "One was to stop me and Crabbe from fighting while getting the attention off us and back to you." Once again, their professor encouraged his student to continue. "The second was to prove a point about silent casting. If you can't hear or see a spell coming at you, you can't defend yourself."

"Very good, Mr. Graves. Now, both of you take your seats." The man picked up the chalk once more as he returned to the board and then paused, before turning slowly. "Ten points from Slytherin, Mr. Graves, for your impertinence as well as detention tonight after your evening meal."

Hermione couldn't believe her ears and she doubted the others could either. They'd all seen Severus snap at and wrangle his own students a bit roughly now and then, but never anything officious. She had been certain that the disturbing trend of favoritism he'd shown his house over the years would continue this day.

Quickly, she shook off the thought and grabbed her quill to start taking notes. Ignoring Professor Snape during a lecture may not have been as foolhardy as yelling at or telling him what to do, but it wasn't wise by any means.

* * *

For the most part, Emery stayed away from everyone throughout the day. He didn't eat with anyone in his house or outside of it. He hid in alcoves to study or sat by himself in class. He was trying to figure out who he wanted on his debate team and who was likely to join it. He had a feeling Hermione and most of the Gryffindors would be asked by Harry first. He'd be lucky if he got any decent leftovers from the house.

Both he and Harry had two weeks to come up with and create a decent team. He'd been using the yearbooks for research on a private matter, but they'd come in handy for determining who he'd like to ask to join him. Noting what clubs or groups different students had been in over the past few years, he'd found that his dream team consisted of Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Theo Nott, Draco Malfoy, Lisa Turpin or Michael Corner, Justin Fitch-Fletchly, and Padma Patil.

He'd obviously be settling for a drastically different team. Theo and Draco wouldn't have anything to do with him, and Blaise had already told him he couldn't help. Neville and Hermione were going to be on Harry's team and Justin was terrified of him. Padma and Cho Chang were best friends and he knew Harry used to date Cho, so he might still have a shot at recruiting them depending on how amicably the relationship ended.

As the evening meal came to an end, Emery felt his stomach rumbling. He'd known he should have put away the books, but he'd let the debate team stuff distract him from eating. He felt sure that if he had at least three Ravenclaws, three Slytherins, two Gryffindors, and two Hufflepuffs he'd have a winning combination. He just had to figure out who to fill the spots with. He hated being interrupted, but it was in fact time for detention.

Testing Severus Snape more than he already had, wasn't a good idea.

He packed up his books and tossed them into a backpack that he had an extension charm on and then ran up the steps to get to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. He started to make his way up the tower steps when the stairs started to rumble. His heart fell to his stomach as he gasped in alarm and dropped to his ass on a step.

Three first or second year Hufflepuffs giggled at the sight, as Emery held on tight to the railing. Their laughter brought a snicker of his own as he realized that the stairs were moving. The younger kids were clearly used to the movement as they stood calmly and patiently.

Slowly getting to his feet, he blushed. "I didn't know they did that," He told the little kids.

"I've never seen a seventh year cower like that," One of the two girls laughed.

"Slytherins do it all the time," one of the boys explained. "You'll get used to it. Draco Malfoy cries like a little girl anytime he thinks he going to get hurt."

"Hey! Not all girls cry!" The second girl insisted.

Emery rolled his eyes as he waited for the slow-moving stairs to settle. He was definitely going to be late, even though the movement actually saved him as he'd apparently chosen the wrong staircase in the first place. Who knew how many points he'd get taken away by time he got there?

"What happened to your eye?" The second girl asked, her face showing some concern.

"I ran it into someone's face repeatedly to teach them a lesson," he explained and was pleased when she smiled. He'd rather they laugh at him than pity him.

"Did they learn it?" The boy asked.

"Not yet, but I'm not finished with them." He promised darkly.

"Looks to me like you should quit while you're ahead." The first little girl huffed. "Your pale eye looks really creepy with all that bruising around it."

The other two children nodded as the stairs finally came to stop. "Is it true that you're a Vampire?" The boy asked. "I heard Ernie say you were a Vampire."

Emery stared, flabbergasted. "I was literally standing in the sunlight when I stopped him and his idiot friends from hexing me!"

"You could have used a charm to protect you from the sun," the boy insisted.

Angered, Emery closed his eyes and mumbled a spell under his lips and then opening them, he lunged at the younger children; mouth open and hands out like claws as they screamed. The charm didn't affect his eyes of course, no spell ever had, but his teeth appeared fanglike and his nails were grotesquely long.

He chased them up the steps, hissing and baring his charmed features at them until they rounded a corner going in the opposite direction he needed to go. He stopped and shook his head and hands to release the charm.

Little brats.

"That wasn't very nice, Mr. Graves," Severus Snape's voice reprimanded from behind him. He turned slowly to see the potions master standing beside the door to his office. He'd likely watched the entire episode as Emery took one glance and realized he could see the shifting stairs and all the way down to the main floor. "I'd advise you not allowing Professor Trocar to catch you at it. He just might force you to join his ranks as punishment."

"Trocar?" Emery frowned as he walked over to his Head of House.

"Yes, he's the Ancient Studies Professor and he just so happens to be a vampire." The former potions teacher informed him. "Come along, we've much to discuss."

"Can't wait," Emery grumbled as he walked into the opened doorway ahead of the professor.

When he walked into the room, he found it darker and gloomier than it had been that morning. Though, now, there was definitely a creepiness added to the feel of the room without natural sunlight beating at the windows. Like it was haunted or something. He shivered as he allowed Snape to pass him and then followed along behind him.

"Mr. Graves, I will only give you this warning once," The man began in a quiet, but deadly tone. "If you ever speak to me as you did in class today, if you ever question my teaching methods as you did earlier, I will have you expelled."

"Yes, Sir," he nodded and watched as his elder took a seat in his own desk. The thought of being removed from the school terrified him for more than one reason.

"The headmaster didn't promise you a free pass to do as you wish at this school," the teacher continued as he looked to him with a penetrating glare. "merely the _opportunity_ to finish your education here. Is that understood?"

Emery nodded, knowing that anything he said might be taken as a smart-ass comment. He didn't want to upset the man who was in control of his life.

"Now, for your punishment you are going to go over how to brew Liquid Death with me. I heard from Professor Slughorn that you were particularly displeased over the results of your attempt and became belligerent with him when someone else created it and you couldn't."

"Displeased? Belligerent? The book was wrong! Anyone who had an affinity for potions knew that, and there were quite a few of us trying to tell him, but Slughorn wouldn't listen to us!" Emery shouted, his anger snapping at the reminder. "Harry had to have had a different book or recipe!"

"Potter was the one that managed to create it?" Snape asked, all traces of anger vanishing in place of suspicion and curiosity.

"Yes, Sir," Emery nodded. "I know that SHAWW is considered a subpar school, but I swear, I know how to handle potions as well as any other sixth year student."

"Did Granger or Longbottom manage the potion?"

"No, Sir." He answered with a shake of his head.

"And Draco?"

"No one but Potter," He answered. "I get that Harry's an amazing wizard, but I know for a fact there are others just as great at potions and more that are smarter than him."

"Potter isn't great. He's a lucky, lazy opportunist." His teacher spat. "I don't know how he figured out how to make the spell if Granger or Longbottom didn't assist him. Take out your book, Graves."

Emery was mentally exhausted by the time they finished. Snape made him point out every place where he was sure the book made an error, though it wasn't confirmed if Emery was right or wrong. Then Snape tried to get him to figure out what it should have been instead. Emery had access to several books of the professor's, but he was required to research it alone. None had a completed recipe. The books were on ingredients and the different ways of preparing them for different types of potions

After two hours, Emery was fairly certain he'd figured it out and when he told Snape, he was required to then brew the potion according to his new recipe. He did his best to ignore Snape's looming over his shoulder. He didn't normally struggle so much with potions, but he was second guessing himself on everything.

"Step back," Snape ordered midway through the brewing. He did as he was told and waited for some kind of criticism. "Your bumbling about is going to destroy all the work you've put into this potion, Mr. Graves. Take a deep breath and calm yourself or you'll make the same mistake Longbottom does in every potions class I've had him in."

"You're making me nervous," he muttered as he took a couple deep breaths.

"Codswallop. I don't make you nervous, this situation makes you nervous and that energy is melding into your magic and in the end will tamper with your potion." Snape lectured. "Get it together or you'll be brewing it again."

Emery nodded and as he stepped up to the cauldron, he couldn't help asking, "Why don't you explain that to Longbottom?"

Snape snarled. "Did we not just discuss you never questioning my teaching methods?"

He knew he should shut up, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. "Yes, and I'm not questioning you in a classroom or in front of anyone." He tried. "I just don't understand why you'd let him continue 'bumbling' his way through your classes for five years when just telling him what you told me could have made him a better student?"

The man was completely silent, and even worse, still as a statue. He'd upset his American teachers to that point a few times and all three ended badly. He tried to finish brewing the potion, hoping maybe if he got back to work, the Potions Master would just ignore his outburst.

"Mr. Graves, are you a Hufflepuff?"

Emery was confused by the question, but he kept working and shook his head. "No."

"What did the hat say to you before it sorted you into my house?" Snape asked.

"What did it say to you?" Emery countered before he could he bite his tongue.

To his greatest relief, the professor merely snorted. "Your obsession with fair-play is a very Hufflepuff trait, and I wonder why you weren't sorted there."

"Are you asking me to prove myself a Slytherin?" Emery frowned, even more unsettled than he had been before.

"We are all of us, bits of every house. Where we are placed has as much to do with who we choose to be as who we are." Severus stated. "So, why Slytherin? Who are you hoping to become and who are you now?"

He could only blink at the question. When students asked him, he was always self-assured and prepared with an answer, but the man unnerved him, and he didn't know how to answer. He wasn't afraid of him the way he had been a few other teachers in his past, but he was afraid of the harm he could do to him long term. SHAWW teachers only worried about the present, this man definitely seemed the type to commit himself to a grudge.

"I expect 24 inches of well written and appropriately thought out theories on why you are a Slytherin now and why you believe you always will be." Snape stated as he approached the cauldron and dropped several plush green leaves into the potion. They dried out immediately. "Very good, you are dismissed."

Emery didn't hesitate as he grabbed his personal supplies and his bag. "For what it's worth, Professor Snape, I am sorry that I spoke to you that way this morning. It was out of line."

The man regarded him in surprise and tilted his head. "Apology accepted under the condition it doesn't happen again."

"Yes, Sir."


	6. Vampires, Broomsticks, & Two Way Mirrors

**Chapter 6: The 1****st**** Weekend **

**Friday **–

Draco and Theo left side by side as they laughed about the events of the first apparition class. It was the first of three classes that would be held on Hogwarts property. After that, the rest would be held in Hogsmeade.

Draco and his best friend were laughing at the way the class had disturbed so many of their peers. They were shown images of the dangers or aftereffects of wizards and witches who had buggered up the transportation spell. None were fatal, but most of the imagery was of the near lethal incidents and both Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom passed out.

It had been hilarious to Draco, especially when Justin Finch-Fletchly threw up during a particularly gruesome and disgusting photo of a splinching. The Hufflepuff mudblood had gotten a large amount of his breakfast on Ernie MacMillan's legs and shoes and that caused even more laughter. Emery had been heard remarking that it couldn't have happened to a nicer pair of wizards.

"Graves!" Theo called as they started to head for the last official class of the day. "You've got Ancient Studies, too right?"

"Yes?" Emery answered cautiously.

"Well, you're headed the wrong direction," Theo warned.

Draco nodded when Emery stared at them both speculatively. "He's right, we're in Ancient Studies, too."

As the duo walked, he thought about inviting Emery to join them, but he was still on the fence about how to handle the American. Not only had the foreigner lost them points and found himself in detention, but he'd also made enemies of Crabbe and Goyle. The Death Eaters sons had won the first round, but he'd also heard from Blaise and Trolley that several of Crabbe and Goyle's books had mysteriously disappeared, causing both of them to be kicked out of their classes for the past two days.

Emery hung back behind them, and Draco wondered just who the teen's family was. They'd yet to hear anything about his mother other than that she was a Hufflepuff. No one knew her name and neither he nor Theo recognized a single woman whose face was presented in the photograph.

"Hey, do you know what house this teacher is from?" Emery asked quietly.

Draco was about to turn around and answer the boy when he realized Emery was beside a fourth year Slytherin named Astoria Greengrass. Daphne's little sister. He quickly faced forward but listened closely to her reply.

"He's a Hufflepuff," the girl answered. "Very dramatic, likes to get lost in story-telling."

"So pretty much the opposite of Professor Binns," Emery snickered, and the girl giggled, too.

Astoria Greengrass was somewhat short for her age at only five feet and two inches, with auburn hair and dark brown eyes. Draco knew from the year prior that Stori, as they'd all nicknamed her, had a tendency to sneak into classes that weren't offered to her year. She was kicked out of most, particularly the ones where it was too dangerous to have younger or inexperienced students present, but in lecture classes? Most Slytherins were happy to help hide or disguise her.

He glanced to Theo, it appeared they'd be helping the girl again. Despite what most thought of Slytherins they weren't normally so cutthroat with their own. That was a Ravenclaw trait. Under normal circumstances, Slytherins didn't feud and they never left one of their own behind. It was why many Hufflepuffs got along so well with their house. Loyalty meant something, sometimes even more than ambition.

It was why Draco struggled so much with ignoring Emery or pushing him away. It felt unnatural. He was a Slytherin, so why couldn't they treat him like one? Why did they have to avoid him like some kind of plague?

They got into the class and as Draco finally resolved to invite Emery to sit with him and Theo, he caught Stori grabbing his hand and leading him to a small sofa set. The classroom wasn't so much a classroom as it was a large lounge room, littered with cozy chairs and couches and sofas. There were even pillows large enough for the biggest seventh years to lay across if they chose. The important thing was that the furniture was set up to face a small wooden platform in the center of the room.

Trocar, the Vampire of Hogwarts, swooped in melodramatically once they were all seated. Whereas Professor Snape's robes billowed after him in determined rage, Trocar's were graceful and theatrical as he moved to the six-inch-high, three-foot by three-foot stage. He had long, dirty blond hair like a lion's mane and his eyes were a pale green. His skin was practically translucent, but it didn't stop several girls from sighing when he offered a sharp, white toothed grin.

"Good evening, class," he greeted in his Romanian accent. Draco and Theo were convinced it was as fake as they suspected his name was, but they didn't mind the man's dramatic flair. They'd never fallen asleep in his classes and rarely did anyone notice the time pass. "Welcome to Ancient Studies! Here you will learn of both muggle and supernatural events! You will listen to the tales that inspire gossip in the era of Helen of Troy and the tragedies of Tristan and Isolde! You will learn of the magical techniques used by the ancient Egyptians, Mesopotamians, and of course the Greeks! You will get an opportunity to see the very items used in spell forging, potions brewing, and broom crafting! This class may not be required of a single student, but I promise you, you'll never regret a second spent here!"

Everyone clapped as he bowed low and several girls whispered excitedly and even a boy or two. Draco rolled his eyes at the behavior of the sixth years, but it was no different than it had been with Gilderoy Lockhart. They all thought Trocar incredibly handsome and adored his tales and lessons as if he'd lived through them himself. But that was the thing, he was so much like Gilderoy that Theo and Draco couldn't possibly believe the bulk of what Trocar claimed were first-hand accounts.

With a sigh, Draco settled in and relaxed, though his eyes moved to Emery to see what he thought of the Vampire. The American looked enthralled by the professor like so many students were. The American didn't take his eyes off the man and he even smiled once or twice as the story telling began. The teen relaxed more and more, looking calmer than Draco recalled seeing over the week.

Today ended their first scholastic week in Hogwarts and Draco wondered what the rest of the year was going to be like. He forced his eyes away from Emery and focused on Trocar. The man was setting them up with a brief timeline of magic, it's discovery and founders, which of course ended only with Hogwarts' creation and the splitting of the founders of the school.

Applause rang through the room and Draco couldn't deny he'd assisted with the noise. The story telling was fun and just as Trocar promised, they hadn't regretted a second of it. It really was too bad the class was only an hour. Personally, Draco was certain that he could spend his entire Friday in Trocar's Ancient Studies class.

"Next week, we go back to the influence magic had on Alexander the Great and his many accomplishments as well as his failures!" They all started to get up when Trocar's voice called out once more. "Mr. Graves, you'll stay behind a moment, yes?"

Draco's eyes immediately found Emery's and he saw the teen nod with a bright blush. Astoria said something teasing before skipping off. Draco looked to Theo and silently they agreed to leave the room but to linger by the door so that they could hear what was happening to their fellow sixth year.

"So…I hear you do a remarkable impression of my kind," Trocar's voice was as biting as Professor Snape's and just as menacing.

After an uncomfortably long silence Emery answered. "Considering the performance that you just put on for us, I would have thought you'd have been proud. Those brats were thoroughly terrified."

"You'd think he'd learn to shut his mouth," Theo whispered irritably.

"Agreed," Draco nodded and listened, wishing he could _see_ what was happening.

"Well? Are you going to show me?" The Vampire asked. After a few moments, Trocar began again, "The teeth are perfect, as is the complexion and the nails. Why do the eyes not turn red?"

"Don't know," Emery answered, and Draco just knew he shrugged. Emery always shrugged. It was really annoying. "My eyes never change with charms, no matter who does them or what spell they use."

"You should go see Professor Flitwick about that, otherwise you're right," Trocar told him, "it was perfect. So perfect in fact, I would wonder if you were meant to join my ranks."

That said, Draco and Theo moved back into the class, appearing as casual as possible. "Hey Mate, you coming to lunch or what?" Theo asked.

"Or are you still making eyes at Professor Trocar?" Draco added, risking the points, but allowing the Professor an out if he had been at all serious about changing Emery.

"It seems your friends are here to rescue you, Mr. Graves," Trocar sneered at them before turning his eyes back to Emery. "You have a perfect name for a Vampire, you know. Should you ever change your mind, I'd be thrilled to give you a pretty set of _real_ fangs to match that name of yours."

Emery looked mildly uncomfortable and Draco wondered if he'd heard the Professor right. Was that flirting? Was it a threat? Was it teasing? Was it harmless? Draco couldn't say and he got the feeling Emery and Theo weren't any more certain than he was.

"I'll, uh, keep that in mind," Emery blushed awkwardly and quickly left the room beside him and Theo. As soon as they were several steps from the room, Emery turned and without looking either Draco or Theo in the eyes, he mumbled. "Thanks the for the save," before running off toward the stairs.

Draco knew that Theo was staring at him but he refused to meet his eyes. He didn't want his best friend to see the look of rejection or the concern he felt at Emery taking off. He didn't want to acknowledge that there was a problem and he didn't want anyone, especially Theo, to doubt who Draco was deep down. They had a long life they wanted to get through and chasing after boys and girls that were forbidden would drastically shorten it.

With a heavy a sigh, Draco led his best friend to the Great Hall.

* * *

Emery didn't eat with any student since the debacle with Harry on Tuesday. He was too busy setting up his revised list of teammates. He sat in his dorm room, quietly crossing off names or adding notes to students he was interested in pursuing. He still believed he knew the right combination of wizards from the houses, he just had to pick students that would get along.

Astoria Greengrass was added to his shortlist of potential Slytherin candidates. In the brief time he'd gotten to know her during Ancient Studies, he realized she was highly intelligent and well rounded. One professor had even proclaimed her a Slytherin Hermione Granger. He was certain that Potter would only take one Slytherin and it was unlikely that he'd choose anyone Emery wanted.

After his lunch break ended, he put away all of his books and notes before heading down to the quidditch field. He was embarrassed to admit it, but he'd never learned to fly as it wasn't a class that SHAWW offered. It was too expensive and dangerous. He wasn't really sure he'd even like the method of travel. It was why he'd made sure to save up for the Apparition class. If he could help it, he'd never ride a broom anywhere.

Madam Hooch was assembled with several students from all four houses. Every one of them were first years. The witch had warned him that he would be the only student over the age of twelve in attendance. He'd begged her to teach him privately, but she claimed she hadn't the time as she was needed for several other types of classes.

He blushed as he stepped up, several of the little kids whispering excitedly. They thought he was a quidditch player come to help with the lesson. He looked to the teacher for help, but she merely smiled with her golden gaze twinkling mischievously. She wasn't going to protect his dignity. She was laughing at him and probably would for the whole year.

"Welcome everyone to your first flying lesson," She announced, silencing the students around her. She only lectured them for ten or so minutes before she was telling them all to command their broom into their hands with a simple "Up".

Emery didn't struggle with that part at all. It was getting on the broom and trusting the damned thing to hold him in the air that he'd have an issue with. He wanted to run away. He was mortified as the kids slowly realized he was really there to learn the same lessons that they were. He heard the Gryffindors laughing and joking about how funny it would be if he fell.

"Hey!" A tiny boy in green and silver hissed. "Shut your stupid trap!"

"Or what?" A gryffindor girl challenged as she stepped toward the boy. "You'll cry?"

Madam Hooch called them both to order and Emery felt disturbed that a little eleven or twelve-year-old boy had tried to defend him. Was he so pathetic that he needed help from first years? As the class went by, he couldn't help but keep an eye on the little guy, feeling an instant connection to the boy who tried to help.

"My name's Benedict, but you can call me Benny," the child introduced himself at the end of the class. "Is it true you practice wordless magic?"

Blinking, Emery couldn't help but nod.

"Really!" Benny beamed. "That's incredible! Guys, it's true! He really does know how to cast silent spells!"

At once Emery was surrounded not just by first year Slytherins but by Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and even a Gryffindor or two. The children shouted questions up at him and Madam Hooch winked at him over their heads before she slowly left the field, the brooms lining up and following behind her.

"Is there really a spell for turning our pets' different colors?"

"Is it true Professor Snape strangled a Gryffindor?"

"Will they trap you in a broom closet if you get caught cheating?"

"Does McGonagall favor Gryffindors?"

"Did a student really die while planting baby Mandrakes?"

"How tall is Hagrid really? Is he a giant?"

Emery had no idea why the little runts were asking him so many questions, so he looked to Benny for an answer to his own silent question. Benny smiled back. "You're the oldest student to speak to us that wasn't a Head Boy or Girl or a Prefect."

"Oh," He smiled softly, lightened and touched by the trust and eagerness he felt they offered him in their enthusiastic request for knowledge. One by one, he spent the next half hour answering every single question they had until Professor McGonagall arrived to find some of her own wayward students.

"Come along, children. Sixth years have a lot of studies with all their exams at the end of the year. Let's leave Mr. Graves and get you all to your common rooms." She turned then and smiled at him. "Thank you, Emery for giving them a bit of your time."

He shrugged with a blush. "It was nothing at all."

* * *

**Saturday - **

Draco frowned as he watched the golden trio trudge along the cobble stone pathway into Hogsmeade. Normally, he'd have his sights set on Hermione Granger, an expression of disgust painted over his face just in case anyone watching figured out who he was starting at. It always made sense for Draco to hate the girl. She was a mudblood, and more importantly she took what little positive attention he'd been guaranteed away from him with her own excellent grades and commitment to school.

Still, today, he glared at them for another reason as he ignored the Slytherins to both sides of him. The same face present, his meanness properly displayed, but he was trying to understand them. Gryffindors in general, that is. What made them so… brave? Why couldn't he be like that? Why couldn't he make friends with who he wanted and not worry about the consequences?

Theo nudged him from his thoughts and as the small group stopped behind him, he looked where he was directed. At a small antiques shop, Emery stood holding a newspaper article. The boy towered over the short, ancient looking couple.

"That place can be pricey," Blaise pointed out. "Did anyone else get the impression that Emery was dirt poor?"

"Totally," Pansy chimed in. "Who goes to SHAWW over Ilvermorney?"

Draco looked to Theo. "What's the big deal, Theo? Who cares what Graves is up to?" He said, mostly for show. He didn't need his peers confirming what Theo knew and Blaise likely suspected.

"I've just been reading the paper for a few days, looking for a gift," Theo explained. "The only thing they've been advertising recently are a pair of two-way mirrors."

"Maybe he's homesick," Blaise shrugged.

"They're a lot of money." Trolley pointed out. "Far more than I'd spend on them, anyhow."

Blaise placed an arm around the girl's shoulder and hugged her close. "You wouldn't need them anyhow, we're practically inseparable."

Draco wanted to warn off his friend from such affectionate and public displays. Anyone could see the irritation in Pansy and Millicent's faces and having those two witches on one's bad side wasn't ideal. Even if there wasn't much they could do to Blaise, there was plenty of harm they could cause Trolley.

"Come on, Trolley, we're supposed to meet Daphne and Astoria for lunch," Pansy ordered.

"Oh, right!" She turned and boldly kissed Blaise on the lips. "See you later!"

The boy's cheeks darkened as he blushed and nodded. "Yeah,"

Draco rolled his eyes as the girls left the group. He was grateful that they'd left, but it would have been even better if they'd dragged Greg and Vincent with them, too. He turned his gaze back toward Emery, just to be sure he didn't glare at the two boys his father had always insisted he keep close.

Unfortunately, Emery was nowhere to be seen, likely having gone inside the store. He wondered how he'd been doing, but he was too afraid to ask. When Severus Snape interrupted them their first night it was evident, he was telling all the Death Eater's children to stay away from him. Even if it had at first seemed like a way to protect Draco's standing, he no longer believed that to be the case.

"I can't wait until we're out of Hogwarts." Draco grumbled as he led his friends deeper into the village. "This place has gone to the dogs."


	7. If It Walks Like A Duck

**Chapter 7**

**Monday – **

The first class of the week was Advanced Potions and despite how poorly last week's classes had gone, Hermione was excited to start her day with such a challenging class. As she walked in however, she was surprised to see the seat beside Ron empty. Her eyes scanned the room as they settled on Cho and Harry, the two were sitting side by side and whispering to each other. She started to sit beside Neville when Ron waved her over.

She offered a consolatory frown to Neville before moving to take the offered seat beside Ron. Normally she would always partner up with Neville when there wasn't room enough for her to sit with Ron or Harry, but he could be rather needy. Especially in Potions.

"What's going on? Why is Harry sitting with Cho?" She asked as she took her seat. She didn't dislike the idea of sitting beside Ron, but she was concerned about her best friend trying to start up another relationship so soon after losing Sirius.

"Apparently Cho just had to speak with Harry immediately," Ron scoffed. "I think it's got something to do with the debate team. The Ravenclaws are all in a clamor to be on his team, I guess. At least you don't have to sit with Neville today."

"Watch out Graves," Malfoy snickered loudly, calling her attention away from lecturing Ron about being kind. "With Longbottom as your partner, you're likely to smell like him, too."

Her heart ached for Neville as his gaunt face flushed red and he quickly stood to move. She was about to tell Ron to sit with him when Emery spoke up and grabbed hold of Neville's arm. "Relax, Neville. If I wanted a different potions partner, I would have sat at a different table," Emery told him. "I've been meaning to talk to you all day."

"Really?" Neville blinked, and Hermione found herself openly watching the two. Though, she couldn't help but note the flash of anger over Draco Malfoy's face or the amused expression on Theodore Nott's as they moved to their own table.

What could Emery possibly want from Neville Longbottom? He was a gentle soul to be sure, but everyone tended to pick on him. Even his own house. Only Luna and Ginny went out of their way to be nice to him outside of herself and to her shame, she'd been known to lose her patience with him, too. She worried that whatever Emery wanted, he'd wind up doing or saying something cruel to her friend.

As Professor Slughorn walked into the room, she was forced to turn away from them and mind her own business. She offered the old man a welcoming smile as he took his place at the front and called the classroom to order. It was amusing to see that the old Slytherin purposely snubbed Malfoy and Nott as he looked past them and smiled to Zabini and Holladay. It served the so-called Prince of Slytherin right. He'd been guaranteed preferential treatment with Professor Snape as the Potions Master, but that had all changed with their new Potions Master.

The first hour was to be spent going over the lesson, the knowledge and history behind the potion they'd be brewing and finally, pointers about the dangers of mixing them wrong. The second hour would be spent practicing and brewing.

As Hermione tried to focus on the lecture, she could hear snickering from Malfoy and Nott's table, as well as whispers behind her where Neville and Emery were seated. She had no doubt that the two were connected.

"What do you think Harry and Cho are talking about?" Ron whispered. "They can't need a whole class just to talk about the debate team, can they? I mean, do you think she wants him back?"

"I doubt it. Neither of them seems interested and Cho is smart enough to know better than to start a relationship with death of a loved one looming over head. Especially having gone through it herself." She explained as quietly as she could, not wishing to upset their teacher. "She's probably just worried about him. You can remain friends with someone you aren't snogging anymore, Ron."

"No you can't," Ron argued with a roll of his eyes. "Girls are too… I don't know, but it's just not possible, Hermione."

"Shh," she snapped quietly. "I'm trying to listen to the lecture."

"Blimey, you're a drag to sit next to," Ron grumbled as he looked over at his friend and Cho. "I can't wait for lunch, I'm starving."

"What was that Mr. Weasel?" Professor Slughorn asked. "Did you have a question?"

Ronald blushed as he found the entire class staring at him. Hermione knew he hated that the man couldn't or wouldn't say his name correctly. She knew that no one had heard his remark about dinner, but almost wished they had. Ron had a terrible habit of talking during lectures. Perhaps he'd finally learned his lesson.

"Yes, actually. I was uh, just wonderin' what would happen if you," he stalled and looked to Hermione for help. She raised a brow at him and once he realized she wasn't going to help him, he turned back to the professor. "What would happen if you umm, you know if you gave a, a love potion to a house elf?"

"What's wrong, Weasel? Having trouble finding a girlfriend?" Malfoy called out, causing several students to laugh.

"Minus five points from Slytherin, Draco," Professor Slughorn stated calmly before looking to Ron and smiling. "Your question is a rather interesting one and I am glad you brought it up. There have been several times throughout our history where the effects of potions were tested on house elves. Can anyone tell me if the tests were successful?"

Hermione knew the answer and so she raised her hand. Only one other student's hand joined hers in the air. She stared at Emery competitively as she bit at her bottom lip, hoping the professor would resent him for calling him out last week.

"Let's have you give it go then, Mr. Graves."

Emery nodded as he turned his attention to Hermione as he spoke, as if to rub it in. "The experiments conducted by the Ministry of Magic were considered both successes and failures. They were highly successful in the sense that the potions worked the same on the elves as they do on humans, but the consequences of success proved to be their downfall."

"Very good, Mr. Graves, five points to your house." The round man smiled and returned to Hermione and Ron. "My dear girl, can you tell us about the consequences that caused the experiments to be deemed unsuccessful?"

Hermione was pleased to be called on, but with such a subject she was struggling to remain calm as she spoke on an issue that that she felt so much anger toward. "Elves often died, got sick, or were incapacitated and were therefore kept from their duties to their _slavers_. Some wizards and witches test their potions on them to this day, however most won't because it becomes _inconvenient_."

"Slavers?" Professor Slughorn frowned for a moment and then smiled. "Well, I suppose I can see where some may see it that way," he chuckled nervously. "None the less, excellent answer. Five points to your house as well."

He then focused back on Ron. "So, to answer your question, yes. Mr. Wimbly. A love potion would work on a house elf."

Hermione stifled a giggle as Ron blushed again. "Thanks Professor."

As the class progressed, Hermione's eye kept wandering to Emery who was almost constantly talking to Neville in low whispers. She did find him attractive, even now that the black eye had turned to an ugly greenish yellow color. She'd heard a few girls admit that they felt the same about the foreigner, but it was mostly undecided how anyone felt about his character.

Neville looked entirely engrossed in him, despite the fact that he was a Slytherin. The Gryffindor didn't appear overly nervous or at all frightened. If anything, he was calm and listening intently to whatever Emery was whispering to him. Whatever he was saying, Hermione feared the worst. What if he was manipulating him?

Sure, there had been a few times when she'd been completely taken in by Emery, but that darkness just always remained. The darkness, she realized, of someone who played _with_ the dark arts. Hermione couldn't help but wonder how many in the school he could bring around to whatever he was up to. His debate with Harry had been talked about constantly since it happened, and he'd gained a lot of favor from it. He'd been very adamant that people see Slytherins differently, that they not just assume they were all Death Eaters.

She gasped and covered her mouth quickly as a heinous, terrible thought struck her. He'd reminded her of someone, but she hadn't been able to put her finger on who. And yet his insistence that a house with more practitioners of the Dark Arts than any other, should be treated fairly had unnerved her then and especially now.

She knew what it was about Emery Graves that bothered her so much, especially as she watched him tug at the sleeve on his left arm. The Death Eaters! What if he _was_ one? What if he was a spy that was following them? He could be older than he appeared or even if he was only a teenager, what if he had been sent to the school to help his family spy on them all?

She glanced back and saw a concerned look upon his face as he was staring at her. His eyes held a sort of confusion to go with his worry as he tilted his head to the side. "Are you alright, Hermione?" He whispered softly.

"Yes. Yes of course, just… lost in thought," she shrugged, but seeing him in such a dark light beside the sweetest of her friends unsettled her. She couldn't help the shiver as she tried to banish the thoughts and feelings.

Emery's expression changed in the blink of an eye, from apprehension on her behalf to fury. She wasn't sure how much she gave away, but she didn't doubt the expressiveness of her own face. When she knew the answer to a question, her face lit up. When she was angered, she glared with the best of them, and when she was suspicious or untrusting, everyone seemed to know.

Looking away she wondered what, if anything she should tell Ron, Harry and Ginny? It wasn't like she had much to base her fears or theories off of. Not yet anyhow. She'd need a little more time to study Emery. To see what she could unearth in the library before she brought her concerns forward to her friends. She was resolved, therefore, to wait until she had something concrete.

* * *

"So, are you in?" Emery asked Neville as they started their walk toward Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"I don't know, Emery. Are you sure I'm the best student to be asking?" he countered, his dark brown eyes falling to the floor in shame. "My Gran –"

"Who cares what your grandmother has said or done in the past? I know you are easily one of the best and brightest in this school, let alone our year or your house." Emery tried to reassure him as he placed a hand on Neville's shoulder. "Trust me, I never bet on the wrong man and I know you're going to be perfect on my team."

Neville tugged at his sleeves as he thought about it. He didn't really believe that he was one of the first people Emery had approached and yet, Emery insisted it was the truth. The Slytherin even offered to let Neville place a truth spell on him or something. Still, Neville's history made him paranoid that he was being set up for a prank. If his own house wouldn't hesitate to tease or prank him, what would stop the Slytherins from doing the same?

He didn't want to be the butt of yet another joke.

As Neville thought about declining, he watched as Emery's face morphed into something he hadn't expected. Instead of anger or impatience, he seemed sad and stressed. Maybe even a little exhausted, something he felt himself. Then again, maybe Neville was just projecting because he needed so badly to believe that someone else could understand him, or that he wasn't the only one going through what he was.

"Neville, I swear to you, there is no one outside of our professors who know Herbology the way you do. Same with potions ingredients! Come on, man. You _have_ to be on my team. I_ need_ you." Emery tried as they approached the darkened room.

Neville couldn't stand the pressure anymore and before he could thing twice the words fell out of his mouth. "Alright, I'll do it. But don't say I didn't warn you if this turns into a complete disaster."

Immediately he feared saying yes, but then, no one had ever _needed_ him before. Not really. What else was Neville supposed to do? Decline? That wasn't very Gryffindor and he knew for a fact he was braver than that. He'd taken on Death Eaters last year with Harry and Luna. He'd faced Bellatrix LeStrange! He could _handle_ being on a debate team that was led by an American Slytherin.

As soon as Emery had thanked him, Neville moved to his seat. He couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest. He'd been the first chosen for a team event! And by a Slytherin captain, no less! True that might taint it in the eyes of his peers, but it wasn't like Harry had asked him, nor was it likely that he would. Harry didn't want help with hardly anything, but he _really_ seemed reluctant to look to Neville since he found out that the gilly weed was Barty Crouch Jr's idea and not his.

No.

Neville needed to focus on the positive, just like Ginny was always telling him. He wasn't going to stress. He wasn't going to let himself fall to pieces when something good and almost normal had finally happened to him. He couldn't wait to tell his Gran the good news and for the first time in years, he was too pleased to worry about Professor Snape.

* * *

**This much shorter than most of this story's chapters but the wait for Chapter 8 shouldn't take near as long as this one did. Hope you're all enjoying it!**


	8. If It Talks Like A Duck

**Tuesday – **

As several students gathered around Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures, Emery moved to stand beside Luna Lovegood. He'd been wanting to talk to her about joining his debate team. He wasn't sure if she'd want to join him after the wand experiments that they'd done together a week ago, but he'd been impressed. So much so, that he wanted her to co-captain the team.

Her perception and observation skills were exceptional, and he was sure that she could see problems on their own team as well as Harry's without much concentration. As he approached, she smiled up at him.

"You, uh, excited for Hagrid's surprise?" He asked lamely.

"I don't think that was the question you wanted to ask me," Luna tilted her head with a smile. "Try again."

"Since when do you play psychic?" Emery grinned as a strand of his wavy black hair fell over his face.

"I'm not. I can just tell by that curious expression on your face. You've worn it a lot recently. It only disappeared shortly after you asked Neville to join your debate team yesterday and now it's back." She answered reasonably.

"Okay, fine. Will you join my debate team? Maybe even act as my co-captain?"

Emery tried not to notice Theo, the only other Slytherin in the class, glaring angrily at him and Luna. He wasn't sure what the connection was and rather than find out, he refocused on the girl. Despite the hostility directed toward them, or maybe just him, Luna seemed at ease.

"Yes, Emery. When will our first meeting be?" She asked.

"Well, I still have to get the rest of the team together, but if you wouldn't mind studying on the sport in the meantime it would help a lot," He couldn't help but glance back at Theo who looked angrier and angrier by the second. He wasn't sure what the boy's problem was, but he refused to let it affect him.

"I wonder what's upsetting Theodore," Luna pondered with her typical melodic tone, her hand rising to wave at the other Slytherin.

"Who cares?" He shrugged as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his black pants. "He's a phony anyhow."

"A phony?" She looked up at him and then back to Theo. "No more than you, I think."

Emery looked away from the girl and her all too accurate comment. He was reminded once more of Luna's exceptional observations and insight. He wondered if she'd hate him by the end of the year. Despite her gentle nature, he could tell she wasn't some silly little girl. She wasn't a pushover. She was dangerous and skilled. Ravenclaws weren't to be underestimated. They were used to fighting alone and that often led to fighting dirty.

"Emery?" She called his attention back to her. "Would you like me to see if anyone else in my house would join our team?"

"Please," he nodded enthusiastically. "My top choices after you were Michael Corner, Padma Patil, or Cho Chang. From what I could learn, they all had pretty good grades, but I only want two more from Ravenclaw. No more and no less."

"I believe Cho and Padma have already joined Harry's debate team, or at least they've pledged themselves to it once he gets around to filling it," Luna informed him. "I would suggest Lisa Turpin and Michael Corner. Her grades may not reflect it, but she's extraordinarily clever and open minded."

After a moment's debate, Emery found himself agreeing to the substitution. He was tempted to ask her to get Ginny Weasley to join on behalf of Gryffindor, but despite her skill in magic itself, like her brother Ron, she seemed very uninterested in academics. Too much of a jock for his taste.

"So, why haven't _you_ pledged yourself to Potter's team?" He asked as Hagrid finally came out of his hut and approached with a large wooden crate.

"Couple of reasons," and for the first time since he'd met the girl, he picked up a note of sadness in her softened voice. "Harry would never think to consider me for the task. He often has to be forced to accept help from anyone, let alone those outside of Gryffindor."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware," he frowned, trying to ignore the fact that Hagrid appeared woefully under prepared as the man ran back into his hut for something he forgot.

"It's alright, Harry just thinks I am strange and most of his friends…" She shrugged and then blinked, her tone returning to neutral. "Did you know that having two different colored eyes is seen as a good omen in many different cultures?"

"I didn't," he smiled, letting her change the subject. "My grandparents said it made me a freak and was further proof of the tainted evil coursing through my veins." It wasn't his intent to grab at his left arm, but he rarely noticed it until he felt himself squeeze the appendage. Stopping himself mid movement would only draw more attention to the tic, so he didn't bother. "As clichéd as it sounds, I think people fear what they don't understand."

"Its simple truth is exactly how it became a cliché," Luna told him. "I will talk to Lisa and Michael during dinner tonight."

"Now class," Hagrid's gruff voice rang out to capture the attention of the fifteen or so students surrounding him and his sealed wooden crate. "Today we are going to study the Amphisbaena. Can anyone tell me what it is?"

Theo raised his hand and was called upon. Emery was surprised as the boy rarely spoke up in his other classes. "It's a snake that has a second head where the tail would normally end," Theo began his voice faltering when he said the word 'second', and the word 'end'. Like he was both nervous and excited. "They are extremely rare, and no one knows for certain how they mate as their sex can't even be clearly defined, not to mention they're almost never seen in close proximity to another of their species; leading most to believe that they're asexual."

"Very good, there, Theo!" Hagrid exclaimed, his dark eyes twinkling with pride. "Can anyone tell me of their significance in the wizarding community?"

Emery frowned; he'd met one before back in SHAWW and it had been… eventful. It wasn't the scariest creature out there, but he knew enough to be extremely cautious around them. Knowing there was an amphisbaena in the box, he wasn't so sure he wanted to meet this one. He debated excusing himself, his mother had warned him often to stay away from snakes in Europe, that no one would understand.

Justin Finch-Fletchly was the one to answer Hagrid's question. "In most wizarding communities, the amphisbaena was once seen as a positive role because it was used to help ancient wizards and witches select or find new apprentices," he paused and when Hagrid continued to stare, the no-maj born went on. "Over the past few centuries or so, the snake has become known as a bad omen owing to the fact the two headed snake resembles those with dual natures or are seen as two-faced. They're now seen as the wizarding world's symbol of a traitor."

"Excellent answer!" Hagrid continued to beam as he reached down and removed the lid from the crate beside him. "The venom of these beauties is extremely valuable to many a potion's master. Sadly, due to poaching they've also become a rare find out in the wild." He reached into the crate and gently pulled out a two headed snake. "This here is Delia and Delilah. Aren't she the most spectacular thing you ever saw?"

Emery took an unconscious step backward, his gaze focused on the reptile. Hagrid was absolutely right, aesthetically it was one of the most gorgeous snakes he'd ever seen. The creature was as thick as a wooden baseball bat with a hide of azure, teal and plum colored scales. It's coloring and even its pattern resembled that of a peacock's tailfeathers thanks to the black "eyes" running along it's spine. This snake seemed comfortable around so many witches and wizards, though only one head was awake, allowing the sleeping head to act as the tail being dragged about while the other investigated.

"In its natural form, the venom of the amphisbaena isn't deadly and is actually harmless long term to most wizards or witches," Hagrid lectured, pulling back some of his informal speech and trying to impress his students. "Now, that's not to say that a bite won't be excruciating. It makes its way through the system with the worst of the pain lasting between two and eight hours depending on how much venom it gets in its bite or bites. The pain can be so bad that most will pass out and feel numb for a few hours once the pain subsides.

"Like most venoms out there, many a dark wizard or witch has been able to turn it into a deadly potion. The effects have varied, but most of the time it can be manipulated to place the intended victim into a coma that can last years if it didn't kill them outright.

"Other uses include pain-relieving potions as well as having acted as a base in a few truth serums. Yes," Hagrid smiled to them all as Delia or Delilah approached each student and took a sniff at them with its black tongue. "The venom of this lovely beast can be quite useful."

* * *

Theo knew he was a Slytherin and he knew that Slytherins didn't fear snakes. Truth be told, he didn't fear snakes, but this one made him nervous. He'd never once felt the pain of a bite because as Hagrid pointed out, the serpent was considered rare. That being said, the snake bothered him, and he didn't want it getting anywhere near him.

Maybe it was a panic attack? Maybe it was because he knew for a fact a very deadly poison was made using its venom thanks to his father. Maybe that terrible poison had been used on a man Theo knew once long ago that was technically buried alive. He shivered but otherwise did his best to conceal his fear from the rest of the class.

He didn't know what he did, but something about his actions caused the snake to edge closer to him. He took a testing step backward, but it lunged forward and began to wind itself up his body, drawing gasps of alarm from his peers. It settled itself calmly over his shoulders, the second head still asleep.

"Don't worry there, Theo. Even if Delilah there did bite you, it'd be over shortly. Right now, she's just acclimating herself to ya." Hagrid beamed and then turned to the class to continue his lecture. "You see class, as Justin indicated earlier, the snake is just doing her job and settling with a Wizard or Witch she feels is likely to learn well from her master."

Hagrid offered him a smile and normally, Theo would be thrilled, but he was too focused on the excruciating pain part of his lecture as well as all the terrible things this snake's venom could be used for.

Unfortunately, Theo also knew that as wonderful a teacher as Hagrid could be, there were reasons why students weren't…eager to take his class. The Keeper of the Keys had a tendency to allow the animals too much control and it often left Hagrid in the pitiable position of having to defend the animal or its actions. Theo wanted to believe that Hagrid learned his lesson with Buckbeak three years ago, but it seemed Hagrid had no way of stopping the snake from biting.

As Hagrid approached, Theo caught sight of Emery who, though pale, was coming toward him as well. Theo really, really didn't want to be bit and he knew that so far, Hagrid had left out one very crucial detail about the snake.

Once an amphisbaena chose a pupil or protégé for the wizard or witch it belonged to, it would make a claiming bite. He wondered if Hagrid didn't know that or if he just hadn't wanted to bring it up to keep everyone calm. Damn the man! He shouldn't have allowed the snake anywhere near the students! Not knowing the risks!

As the snake's tongue flicked at his ear, Theo brought up a shaking hand and gently petted its scaly head. So far, so good. Even as Hagrid and Emery got closer. Their teacher appeared very calm and even casual about the whole thing, but Emery's face was both determined and pale, like he was scared but fighting it back.

"Alright now, Theo, the hardest bit is going to be removing her," Hagrid explained, and it took all of Theo's restraint not to roll his eyes. "Most amphisbaenas tend to bite the wizard or witch it has decided is a suitable match."

"H-Hagrid," Emery frowned. "One or both of those snakes _will_ bite Theo," he looked to his roommate and saw Emery lick his bottom lip nervously. "I think, I think you should find someone who's already been bit once or twice by an amphisbaena and let them remove her. _I_ could do it for instance."

"No," Hagrid shook his head. "No that uh, that could be worse," Theo heard the man whisper so only he and Emery could hear. "Sometimes they'll bite someone who's already been bitten until they are sure the previous claim is gone."

Emery stood still at this bit of information and Theo sighed softly. He didn't blame the American. If he could avoid being bit, he would, too. It must have been bad though, if Emery having already felt it, stopped himself from helping.

Theo just had to accept the inevitable. He was going to be bit and he would have to endure the pain. He could handle it. It wasn't like he didn't know how to take a punch or even a curse or two. His father was Avery Nott, a man who knew more about curses than he did drinking, and that was saying something.

"Don't go givin' up on me now, Theo," Hagrid said quietly. "I'd let her bite me before a student."

"Hagrid, they don't bite their masters." The American warned, dashing any bit of hope he'd started to feel from Hagrid's words. "Let me try something, please."

Hagrid turned then and faced Emery as Theo tried to stay calm. "Emery, I can't go lettin' you get yourself hurt either, 'specially if you've already been bit before."

"Look, there's a one hundred percent chance that Theo gets bit if someone doesn't interfere. It's only fifty-fifty with me. Either Delia and Delilah accept Onyx and Pearl's claim, or they don't, but…but I have another trick up my sleeve that could make it like a forty-sixty chance."

Theo's brows furrowed as he wondered what the crazy teen wanted to try.

"If I do this right, she won't bite either of us," Emery tried again, and it seemed to do the trick as Hagrid finally consented and stepped back.

The whole class watched him, and Theo felt a blush rise in his cheeks. He hated being the center of attention, especially when it was due to something embarrassing. That was why Theo rarely helped Draco with his pranks or cruel acts. They always came back to bite them in the ass, and he'd be damned if he was going to be humiliated in the limelight. Theo didn't like positive attention, but he absolutely despised negative attention.

"OK, Theo, just stay calm," Emery pulled him from his thoughts as he approached, several students snickering or whispering at the precarious situation they were both in. "I got this."

Theo wanted to know how he was going to be effective with his wand still in its belted holster, but that wouldn't have been polite. So, he bit his cheek and nodded, letting his eyes drift to Luna to see if she was laughing at him, too. Thankfully she wasn't. He smiled to her, feeling a little braver.

Until he heard it.

Until they _all_ heard it…

A hissing, whispering language came out of Emery's mouth, his dual colored eyes focusing intently on the snake as the Emery held his hand out. Theo could see that even Hagrid's jaw had dropped at the revelation. Emery Graves was a parselmouth. No wonder the teen was convinced he could help. Theo didn't know whether to be frightened or relieved.

Whatever he'd said, it woke the second snake, as both heads rose up a few inches, their attention completely on Emery and not at all on Theo. The vile language continued as Emery kept his hand out to the serpent.

Theo nearly went cross eyed as the two heads looked to one another, their noses nearly touching as they seemed to communicate non-verbally. After only a brief second, the once sleeping head of Delia, or so Theo assumed, moved to join the first.

"Lift your arm," Emery instructed him. "Just raise it so that our fingertips are touching and then they'll come to me and hopefully let me carry them back to the crate."

"Why not just let them slink to the ground?" Theo asked.

"She might go to a different student," Hagrid answered before Emery could.

"Right," Emery agreed and then started speaking again, this time much more forcefully and almost angrily.

Theo wasn't sure angering or frightening them was a good idea, but he couldn't deny the snake moved much faster across his stretched-out arm toward Emery than it had moved when it crawled up him. As soon as the snake had moved to wrap about the American's arm, Theo dropped his own and nearly fell to his ass as he got himself out of the snake's reach.

Very slowly and with soothing parseltongue whispers did Emery walk the two headed snake to its crate. No one moved, especially Theo, who had begun to feel like quite the coward for allowing Emery to help. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling Hagrid was right. Delia and Delilah were going to get Emery if only because he'd been bitten before.

Theo couldn't see Emery as the other students slowly moved to block his sight, all of them watching and following raptly. He was almost sure the crazy foreigner had succeeded until he heard a sharp scream from one of the girls and Emery's own cry of pain. A cry that was too familiar as he recalled the scream of muggles tortured by his father and the Cruciatus curse.

He got quickly to his feet and ran to his roommate, pushing several students out of his way. The boy was holding his neck firmly as tears streamed down his cheeks, but the initial scream had faded. One of the girls kept screaming while another insisted both heads had bit him.

"Here, I got you," Theo told him as he started to pull the taller boy to his feet. "Luna, run ahead and tell Madam Pomfrey what happened and get Snape or Slughorn, too if you can."

She didn't hesitate before she turned and ran for the school, calling out "Accio broom!" and flying off into the castle. Theo was grateful and he could see that Emery was just trying to hold it together as Hagrid approached.

"Lemme help," The older man insisted and as he started to take the weight of the boy off Theo's shoulder, Emery fell backward. The half-giant readjusted and managed to catch him in a bridal carry.

"Nice… catch," Emery gritted through his teeth.

* * *

Hermione glared at Harry and Ron as they continued to play Wizard's Chess. She'd rushed in and told them she needed to speak to them about something very important, but they'd yet to give her their full attention. It took a lot of effort to rein in her temper and keep herself from knocking the board over and yelling at the top of her lungs. Still, she took a deep breath and tried once again to get them to listen to her in a calm fashion.

"Harry, I really need to speak with you about that bit of research I did," Hermione tried as Ginny came over and took a seat beside her on the large, overstuffed couch.

With a frustrated groan, Harry finally looked up. "What is it, Hermione?" He asked not even bothering to hide his annoyance.

"It's about Emery Graves," She started.

"Oh!" Ginny exclaimed. "Are you talking about what happened in Hagrid's class this afternoon?" The redheaded girl asked anxiously. "I can't believe he's a parselmouth, can you? Everyone's been talking about it like mad! It's why I came back here, too!"

Although she'd normally be annoyed with the younger girl, she couldn't help but be grateful for the outburst as both boys immediately stopped what they were doing. Ron looked horrified and Harry was livid as he got up from his chair and plopped down on the couch, forcing his way between her and Ginny. "He's a what? How? What happened?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, Harry!" She looked around and quickly threw out a charm to keep anyone from hearing what she, Ron, Ginny, or Harry were talking about. "I just wanted you guys to see this," she pulled out a photo of Emery that was dated a little over a year ago.

In the photograph, Emery was amongst a small class of advanced potions students. There were only seven teens in the photo and Emery appeared to be the youngest, and at this point of his life, not yet the tallest. A black snake was draped over his left shoulder and a white snake was over the right. All the students were wearing short sleeved shirts and shorts, except Emery. Emery wore long pants and long sleeves, his right hand firmly gripping his left forearm.

"What's the big deal?" Ron asked.

"His arm, look at his left arm," Hermione insisted.

"Where'd you get this?" Ginny asked.

"I've a pen-pal that happened to attend a contest in America last year."

"Krum," Ron rolled his eyes, but Harry didn't laugh or join in.

The Boy-Who-Lived glared hatefully down at Emery. "Any other photos like this one?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "But I know what I've seen. He's always making sure his left sleeve is covering his arm, like he's afraid of someone seeing what's on his skin." She took a deep breath and looked to the other girl in their group. "Tell them, Ginny."

As soon as Ginny finished the tale she'd gotten directly from Luna about Care For Magical Creatures, Harry was so red, Hermione was worried he was going to have a stroke. After hearing it a second time, Hermione was more certain than ever that her theory about Emery being a spy was true.

"Okay, but what could this mean?" Ron asked, looking stressed and even skeptical. "I mean, what are we saying here? He's a parselmouth so he must be a Death Eater? I mean, come on, Harry's one and we don't think he's a Death Eater spy."

"That's different!" Harry shouted and Ginny nodded.

"I think," Hermione stated carefully, suddenly questioning herself. If Ron doubted it, could her deduction be wrong? "I think I'm right. He's either a Death Eater outright, or he's the son of one."

"Not just any Death Eater," Harry shook his head. "But the son of Voldemort himself!"

"Okay, now really, that's too far!" Ginny denied. "I know what you're thinking Harry, but I saw him as a teen, too and yeah they have some similarities, but not enough to say that!"

"Yeah, I mean, sure the bloke's a bit of a prat, but to say he's _his_ son?" Ron frowned.

"Guys, think about it!" Harry argued, his eyes alight with passion and fury. "He's arrogant, he's far more powerful than he should be at his age, he knows things he shouldn't, and he doesn't seem to have any real friends! He feels like he's obsessed with the dark arts and he has absolutely no fear of Malfoy, Snape or the other children of known Death Eaters. It's like he knows they can't harm him!" Harry hypothesized, before his green eyes widened. "How could we have been so stupid? They all heard him speak Parseltongue and except for me, only Salazar Slytherin's descendants can speak it!"

"That's a myth, mate," Ron sighed and ran his hands through his bright red-orange hair. "There's plenty of other lines that can speak snake language, they just all hide it because of reactions like yours."

"I don't know, Harry, this seems like a bit of a stretch," Ginny agreed with her brother. "I won't deny there is a sort of darkness around him, but to be honest, we don't know what kind of life he had. Maybe he has a nasty scar? Maybe he's been abused? Besides, he really sounded sincere about the houses."

"Of course, he would sound sincere, Ginny! Don't you see what he's doing?" Harry demanded as he got up from the couch and began to pace. "He's trying to make Slytherin out to be good guys instead of the evil bastards we _know_ they are! Hermione's right! He's a spy and who better than Voldemort's own to send in?"

"Why not just use Malfoy, mate?" Ron asked, still looking unconvinced. "Normally, I am all for hating Slytherin and thinking the worst of them, but Emery hasn't been cruel or mean to a single student. He doesn't act superior to the muggle-born or non-humans. He doesn't act like hardly any of the Slytherins in our school. Not to mention, he's not even from here."

Hermione frowned when her best friend glared impatiently at Ron. She hadn't wanted them jumping to conclusions. They needed to be logical and they needed to talk it out, but Harry was running with her theory and had turned it into something else entirely.

"Why is this so hard for you to see? It's all an act!" Harry shouted. "An act to make us think he's something he isn't. He never talks about his family, he mysteriously shows up during our sixth year from America. Besides, in what universe would Snape _ever_ allow a student to talk to him like Emery did last week?"

She watched the Weasley siblings exchange worried glances but ultimately, they remained silent. She wanted to say something to help figure it all out, but it was obvious that her initial concern had agitated Harry more than expected. She agreed with several of Harry's points and no matter what the siblings said, the parselmouth thing _was_ a big deal. But she also understood what Ron and Ginny were saying.

Emery wasn't mean spirited in the slightest and to think he came from such a horrid, dark creature was going a bit further than she would have suspected. A spy yes, a Death Eater possibly, but the son of the Dark Lord?

Maybe, just maybe, Harry needed this to be true. Maybe allowing him to think the worst of a new student would help him feel like they were back on track toward stopping Lord Voldemort for good. Maybe Harry needed to focus on something outside of Sirius Black's untimely demise, to feel like he had a plan to get his Godfather justice?

"Harry, we have to be sure," Hermione stated, catching all three of their attention. "I mean, I agree that it's a possibility, no matter how slight. I still think he's either a Death Eater spy or the son of one, but until we know for certain, we can't make _any_ accusations."

"So how do we figure it out?" Ron frowned as he crossed his arms, still sounding like he didn't agree with either of them.

"Well, I know his debate team hasn't filled up yet; I could ask to join his team?" She suggested.

Harry beamed from ear to ear. "Great idea, Hermione! We'll spy on the spy!"

* * *

**Thanks to all of you giving this version of the story a chance. It really means a lot. I hope you'll read and enjoy. This story is also being posted under the same name on Archive Of Our Own.**


End file.
